


Faithful and Strong

by ioanite



Category: Hornblower - C. S. Forester, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:26:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2722076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ioanite/pseuds/ioanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After taking damage from a French ship, The Lydia discovers an island that isn't on any of their maps, and pulls in for repairs. In this case, though, perhaps they should have looked a gift horse in the mouth...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Conundrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for following_sea's Missing Muster Challenge. I thought it was a good lead-in to the crossover, though I didn't actually start posting the crossover until a year later.

Captain Pellew looked down at the muster on his desk, drumming the fingers of one hand on the table as he contemplated the names. He picked up a quill and contemplated scribbling out several of the names, but no doubt the Admiralty would ask about it if they ever got a chance to examine it. Perhaps he could pretend he’d spilled ink on the bottom half…

There was a tap on the door. “Come in!” He said brusquely. Bracegirdle entered with a salute. “Sir, we have returned to the open sea. Course has been set for the English Channel.”

“Very good, Mr. Bracegirdle.” Pellew said vaguely, still preoccupied with the muster. Bracegirdle gave a half-smile when he saw the paper. “Unsure how to log our temporary…recruits?”

“That, Mr. Bracegirdle, is an understatement,” Pellew muttered, “Any suggestions?”

“You _could_ just leave them off,” Bracegirdle said, “They were only on board for twenty-four hours, not really crewmen at all. And we traded with them and didn’t pay them, so perhaps they don’t need to be logged. How are you reporting it in the log?”

“Something along the lines of ‘Steered the ship into a shallow inlet to repair damage to the sides and sails. Completed repairs and set out the next morning.’ I figured that would be enough to satisfy the Admiralty without going into details. Unfortunately, I don’t think I can do that with the muster.” He shook his head. “Why they insisted on signing the muster…”

“Wanted to make things above board for themselves, I suppose. They did give the impression that they’d done this sort of thing before.”

“And yet no one’s ever heard of this land before.”

“Well, sir…” Bracegirdle sounded like he was trying not to laugh, “I suspect there are other ship’s logs and musters that have been mysteriously oblique, or perhaps just…vanished.”

Pellew looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Vanished?”

“If you were, perhaps, to lend the muster to me so I could look it over, and if I were to accidentally drop it into the sea or throw it into the fire, well…there wouldn’t be much you could do about it except reprimand me, would there?”

“I suppose not.” Pellew mused, looking down at the muster once more. Then he pushed it towards Bracegirdle. “Very well, Mr. Bracegirdle,” he said, raising his voice slightly, “I entrust the muster to your care. Please return it to me by the end of the day.”

“Of course, sir.” Bracegirdle said, tucking the paper under his arm. Pellew took another sip of wine, the relief evident on his face. Then Bracegirdle said, voice wavering with amusement, “I do wonder what Mr. Hornblower would have made of it all. After all, the inhabitants had names much like his.”

Pellew gave a wry smile. “I suspect Acting-Lieutenant Hornblower would have been utterly at a loss, and would have spent the entire twenty-four hours focused on his work, to the immense amusement of the rest of the crew. He may be a fine officer, but he isn’t entirely sure how to cope with the bizarre.”

“Perhaps the years will make him more receptive.”

“We can only hope, Mr. Bracegirdle. We can only hope.”


	2. Any Port In A Storm

“Come in!” Hornblower said sharply as the first rap sounded against the cabin door. When Lieutenant Bush poked his head through, he rose to his feet. “What’s the news?” he asked, more brusquely than he’d intended. Still, this was a serious matter, and he was sure Bush understood that. Indeed, Bush merely touched his hat as he closed the door behind him, his expression neutral as he gave his report.

“The _Féroce_ gave us a good thrashing, I’m afraid, sir. The masts are intact, but they’re going to require a lot of sanding and patching to make sure they stay that way. There’s been damage to the sides; nothing serious, but we’ll need to lay anchor if we want to safely repair it. Worst of all, their last broadside took out a large section of our port gunline. We’ve lost at least three cannons, possibly five.”

Hornblower cursed. “Casualties?”

Bush smiled faintly. “Not as bad as one might expect. Only ten dead and fifteen wounded. Other than crewman Fitz, who’s probably going to lose his eye, most of them should recover in a week or so.”

“That’s one bit of good news at least.” Hornblower sighed, sitting down at his desk again and pulling out his maps. With the _Féroce_ still out there, it would be risky to attempt the trip back to England. Better to find a place to hide until repairs were made, ideally a small uninhabited island. A quick examination of the maps revealed that the nearest island was at least five day’s sailing from their current location. It wasn’t ideal, but as long as they didn’t run into the _Féroce_ , it would be a fairly smooth journey. Making up his mind, Hornblower looked back up at Bush. “Set a course for Southwest by West. We’ll be putting in at the nearest island for repairs. In the meantime, set the crew to doing what they can to start repairs.”

“Aye, sir, Southwest by West. I shall report again in the evening to keep you informed of the repair progress.” Bush touched his hat again and left. Hornblower remained at his desk, tracing the route on the map, his mind already piecing together alternate options should they run into trouble.  
***

Hornblower was in his cabin on the second day of their journey, looking over the reports of the damage to the cannons and wondering if they would be possible to repair before returning to England, when someone knocked on his door. It wasn’t an urgent knock, as it would have been if a ship has been sighted, it was more…scattered. As though the person on the other end of the door was trying to puzzle something out and was only barely focused on the door. “Come in.” Hornblower called out, his curiosity piqued.

Midshipman Savage entered the room, giving a quick salute. “Sir, the lookouts have spotted an island a few miles off. From what they can see, it’s a fairly large island, yet it appears uninhabited.”

Hornblower immediately understood Savage’s confusion; as far as he knew, the trip to the repair spot shouldn’t have taken them past any other island. He quickly consulted his maps. No, there was no sign of an island, especially a large one. “Uninhabited, you say, Savage?”

“We’ll need to get closer to be sure, but there was no sign of ships.”

Hornblower rose to his feet. “Change course towards the island. If it still appears uninhabited when we get closer, we’ll look for a safe place to drop anchor and make our repairs there. I’ll be up on deck presently to take a look for myself.”

“Aye, sir.”

When Hornblower joined Bush on the quarterdeck, Bush immediately handed over the spyglass. “What do you make of it, sir?”

Hornblower peered through the glass. Even from this distance, he could make out rocky crags of mountains, before they abruptly cut off and gave way to thick green trees. A strange arrangement, to be sure, but nature was known for her odd little tricks. “It does seem odd that this island has never been noted on our maps, but perhaps this particular area of ocean hasn’t been properly catalogued. The map shows a wide stretch of ocean, after all.”

“Perhaps we’ll have made a new discovery, sir,” Bush said, a bit of eagerness in his voice, “And then perhaps they’ll name the island after you.”

Hornblower gave him a sidelong glance as he passed the spyglass back. “I highly doubt that. But, if it truly is uninhabited, perhaps we can use it as a resupply station. It would certainly aid the war effort.”

“Indeed it would, sir.” Bush smiled. Hornblower gave a faint smile back before gazing out at the small dot on the horizon. He would never admit as much, but he was curious about this new island. What would it be like up close?

Slowly, more and more of the island came into view. It was fairly large, as islands go, and a sort of jagged oval shape. Hornblower ordered the helmsman to sail around it, looking for signs of life and a suitable place to weigh anchor and make repairs. Based on the jagged cliffs and overgrown trees, it did seem that this island was truly wild, but one could never be too careful.

Twenty minutes after coming abreast of the island, the lookout gave an excited cry. “There’s a large, circular bay nearby! Only one entrance, and the water seems fairly deep. It’s as if it was made just for our situation!”

“Take us in, helmsman,” Hornblower called over his shoulder, “The sooner we can get repairs underway, the better.”

The crew, energized by the possibility of a safe haven and the chance to set foot on a strange island, put their backs into their work, and they were safely in the bay in what seemed no time at all. “Well done, men!” Hornblower said, as soon as they’d weighed anchor as close to shore as they could, “You’ll all be given an extra rations of spirit tonight.”

The men cheered at that, then fell silent, waiting for Hornblower’s orders. Hornblower nodded down at the crewmen. “I want a full examination of the ship, to make sure nothing has been missed. Then I want crews out along the sides making repairs with the supplies we have available. Mr. Savage!”

“Aye, sir!”

“Take a small landing party and take a look inland. Look for fresh water, fruit, trees…anything you think we can use for resupply. And don’t forget to keep an eye out for any natives.”

“Aye-aye, sir!” Savage called. Hornblower nodded. “You know your orders. Dismissed!”

The crew immediately scrambled to work, Savage pointing at six men to accompany him. Satisfied, Hornblower decided to descend below decks. He’d make his own contributions to the repair efforts by assisting in checking for damage in the powder room and along the gunlines.  
***

The landing crew had barely been gone an hour when the lookout spotted them returning. Puzzled, Hornblower went to meet them on shore, Bush following him out of concern. Hornblower looked the men over as they descended the small hill to the beach. There was no sign of a struggle, but the expression’s on the men’s faces ranged from puzzled to worried. Savage seemed the most baffled of all, actually glancing over his shoulder as he reached the sand. “What news, Mr. Savage?” Hornblower pressed.

“It’s…” Savage hesitated, glancing at the crew. They all gave encouraging nods. Savage took a deep breath and continued.

“We found a river nearby that will certainly suit our freshwater needs. I sent out crewmen Gilbert and Yates to look for food, and they returned a minute later, telling us all to come and see. We followed, and a little ways away…I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“What is it, Savage?” Hornblower said sharply, not wanting the mystery to be dragged out.

“There’s a town, sir. Just on the other side of the bay. It’s incredibly well-built, and it looks, if not new, then that it’s being maintained.”

“Did you speak to the townsfolk?”

“That’s just it, sir. There _are_ no townsfolk. There wasn’t a human to be seen.”

Hornblower caught the choice of words immediately. “But there was animal life?”

“Yes, sir. We were just on the outskirts, trying our best not to be seen, but we caught glimpses of life moving about. They appeared to be horses of some kind. But the thing is, sir, they aren’t like any horses I’ve ever seen. They didn’t appear to be very big, and…” he hesitated, glancing back at the men for confirmation. “And what?” Bush demanded, correctly picking up on Hornblower’s irritation.

“Sir, you’ll think I’m crazy, but one of the horses was as blue as the water the _Lydia’s_ currently resting in. Another was a shade of orange I’ve only seen on fabric. And there was a third the color of a ripe lemon.”

Hornblower wasn’t sure at all what to make of that. Savage and the others certainly didn’t look like they were trying to pull a hoax, and there was no indication that they were speaking this way due to injury, illness, or any other outside influence. But it didn’t seem possible that they were telling the truth. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Perhaps there _were_ natives on the island, but they had caught a glimpse of the ship and were hiding to make sure Hornblower’s crew was peaceful. As for the horses, perhaps they were naturally small on this island, and the natives painted them odd colors as some sort of ritual.

He was just about to suggest that Savage return to the town with a flag of truce when he raised his eyes upwards and the words died in his throat. Standing up on the hillside were four horses, looking down at them. Savage hadn’t been lying about the colors; one was brick red, another a deep forest green, a third a very light purple, and the last the lemon yellow Savage had mentioned. They were just standing there, unblinking, and Hornblower got the distinct impression that they were actually scrutinizing the crew. Glancing to the side, he could see Bush looking up at the horses, similarly perplexed.

Then, the lemon yellow horse unfurled a pair of wings, rose into the air, and glided down to the beach. Hornblower’s mouth fell open, and he scrambled to shut it. Surely he must be dreaming. Pegasus was a creature of Greek myth, not a real creature. Did this island generate some sort of hallucinogenic substance?

The horse touched down onto the sand and walked towards them, now actively looking each man up and down. As Hornblower debated whether or not to reach for his sword, the horse looked him directly in the face and said;

“Forgive me for being rude, but we’d like to know who you are and what you’re doing here.”


	3. Meeting the Natives

Bush could tell that Hornblower had been rendered speechless. To be fair, he was in the same boat himself. A brightly colored horse with wings that could speak? It seemed too fantastic to be believed.

The horse, perhaps understanding their befuddlement, gave a slight smile. “Never seen a pegasus before? Don’t worry, you aren’t the first ones who’ve been amazed by that. I promise you, we don’t have any intention of hurting you, as long as you don’t intend to hurt us.”

Hornblower blinked, shook his head a few times, and cleared his throat. “I am Captain Horatio Hornblower of the British ship _Lydia_. Our ship was damaged in a battle with a French vessel, and we put into this bay for repairs. Our apologies for disturbing you; we had no idea this island was inhabited.”

The horse nodded and held out a hoof. “Lemon Wedge, Mayor of Baltimare, at your service, Captain Hornblower.”

Hornblower hesitated for a fraction of a second, then bent slightly (Savage had been correct about their size; the horse only came up to Bush’s thigh) and took the hoof in his, giving it a quick shake. Lemon Wedge nodded and ruffled her—now that Bush thought about it, the voice was unquestionably feminine—feathers. “Now that we’ve got the basic introductions out of the way…what exactly do you need, captain?”

“What do you mean?”

“You aren’t the first ship that’s come in here for repairs, you know,” Lemon Wedge said, waving a hoof at the other horses, who started descending the hill, “Once we’ve determined that a crew’s intentions are peaceful, we’re more than willing to everything we can to help speed the repairs along. It gives the craftsmares something to do, and it minimizes the risk of discovery by another ship. So, what needs the biggest fix? I can have two ponies ready to go in half-an-hour if you just say the word.”

Hornblower blanched at that, and Bush could tell he was resisting the urge to take a step back. But the captain’s voice remained even and neutral as he said, “I greatly appreciate the offer, Mayor Wedge, but I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. Really, we should be able to patch up the worst of the damage in less than a week. All we ask is permission to use your bay and to draw fresh water from your nearby stream. Otherwise, I believe we can manage things just fine on our own.”

Lemon Wedge looked him over intently, suspicion writ all over her face. Then she shrugged. “Suit yourself, Captain. But feel free to call on us if you change your mind.”

She turned to go, and that’s when Bush noticed the strange mark on her hindquarters. It was a small brown mark that was unquestionably in the shape of a judge’s gavel. It was surprisingly detailed, and Bush wondered how she had attained it. It seemed too specific to be a birthmark, too natural to be a tattoo. And why would a horse have a gavel on its flank, anyway?

His musing was interrupted by Lemon Wedge speaking over her shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind, Captain, but you’ll probably have a lot of curious observers watching as you undertake your repairs. We don’t get human ships here very often, but when we do, it’s always an event of note. They’ll do your best to stay out of your way, but you know how it goes, I’m sure.”

“Of course,” Hornblower said with a nod, “We’ll extend the utmost respect to them.”

Lemon Wedge nodded and rejoined the group of horses, conversing with them as they made their way back up the hill. As soon as the last tail had disappeared from sight, Hornblower turned to Bush and Savage. “I want repairs to get underway as quickly as possible. The sooner we’re away from this place, the better. Savage, take the men aboard and set to work repairing the masts.”

Savage saluted and led the men towards the ship. Watching them go, Bush noticed that the rest of the crew had gathered along the railing, no doubt having watched the entire exchange between Hornblower and Lemon Wedge. They were whispering amongst themselves, though whether it was out of curiosity or nerves, Bush couldn’t say. “That’s enough, men!” he barked, “I understand that this is a most unusual circumstance, but don’t neglect your duty because of it! There will be time enough to discuss this in your off hours. Away with you now!”

The men obligingly scattered, setting off to start repairs. Bush turned back to Hornblower, who was running a hand through his hair distractedly. “Captain? May I speak freely?”

“Very well, Mr. Bush.” Hornblower said, sounding like he knew exactly what Bush was about to say. Undaunted, Bush pressed forward.

“Why _not_ accept their aid, Captain? It sounds like they know what they’re doing, and it would allow us to get underway much faster with extra pairs of hands…er, hooves, to help.”

“Because it’s madness, Mr. Bush!” Hornblower burst out, “Brightly colored talking horses that are capable of repairing ships? If the entire crew hadn’t seen it, I would have assumed I was under a feverish delusion! How on earth would I explain this to the Admiralty in my reports?”

“You could always omit the details, sir. I don’t believe these horses wish to be known by the outside world any more than you want to discuss it.”

Hornblower flushed, but Bush couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment or irritation. “I will not lie to the Admiralty if I can help it, Mr. Bush. By completing the repairs ourselves, I can merely say ‘Put in to an island for repairs’.”

“I understand your concerns, sir. But, well…the men are curious. _I’m_ curious. We’d like to know more about these horses, and I suspect the horses feel the same. I don’t think talking with them is such a bad thing.”

“The matter is _closed_ , Mr. Bush!” Hornblower snapped, “We will complete repairs on our own and make our way to the nearest English port for a proper fitting. Now, return to the ship to supervise the repairs. And pass the word around that contact with the…natives…is to be kept to an absolute minimum!”

Bush sighed slightly. “Aye-aye, Captain.” When Hornblower got into this sort of state, there was no talking him out of it. As he followed Hornblower back towards the _Lydia_ , he glanced back at the hillside, and was almost positive he saw a small green head peeking over the top of it.  
***

The crew did their best to work efficiently that day, sanding, hammering, and painting, but the work was nowhere as quick as it could have been. They muttered constantly about the island, wondering how the horses had gained the power to speak and demanding information about the town from the landing party. Bush and the other officers did their best to keep their minds on their work, but truth be told, they didn’t put much verve into the reprimands. They were just as curious as the crew.

When they dared (or rather, whenever Captain Hornblower wasn’t present), the crew would sneak glances over the railing, where a small collection of horses had gathered to watch them. Bush himself took a surreptitious look through the spyglass at one point; there were surprisingly few pegasus horses among the crowd, the presence of Mayor Wedge notwithstanding. Indeed, the majority of the horses seemed to be unicorns, which led to much snickering amongst the crew when they overheard, wondering which members of the crew would be “pure” enough to approach them. _That_ , Bush put a stop to immediately—God only knew what Hornblower would do if he heard those exchanges. He seemed to be under the impression that the less he knew about the horses, the better. Indeed, he spent the rest of the day in his cabin, only emerging every hour or so to check on repairs, looking pointedly everywhere but at the beach. Bush just shook his head and continued supervising, having long accepted the captain’s odd whims.

Hornblower had ordered that the repairs continue throughout the night, and by the time Bush was relieved by Lieutenant Rayner, the sides had been decently patched, while the masts were starting to look serviceable, though it would probably take another day before they would be considered safe to climb. After giving his report to the captain (who responded with a curt “Good. Carry on, Mr. Bush.”), Bush returned to his cabin and climbed into his hammock, though it took an hour or so before he could finally fall asleep, mind buzzing with questions.

Hornblower hadn’t emerged from his cabin when Bush took up his station once more the next morning. Figuring it was best to let him be, Bush set the men to work, allowing them to gossip freely; it was good to keep the crew’s morale up, after all.

Bush was examining a particularly nasty gouge at the mizzenmast when the sounds of a faint commotion reached his ears. Whipping around to look for the disturbance, he realized that it was coming from the beach. Despite themselves, the men were inching towards the railing to take a look. Bush pulled out a spyglass and peered through it; there was still a small crowd of horses onshore, but they were separating, making room for what looked like a chariot that was drawn by two incredibly bright horses, which caught the sunlight and seemed to reflect it in all directions, nearly blinding Bush through the glass.

“Mr. Summers,” he said to the man next to him, “You’d best fetch the captain. I believe this is something he ought to know about.” _Whether he likes it or not_ , he added silently.

Even as Summers saluted and moved away, Bush could hear a cry come up from the beach, and he felt his hands tighten around the spyglass. It seems that their presence had made more of an impact than Lemon Wedge had let on.

The cry rang out again, almost echoing over the water. “Make way! Make way for the Princess!”


	4. Royal Visit

When Hornblower heard that a princess was visiting the ship, he sprang up immediately from his desk and rushed to his seachest to dig out his dress coat. Talking horses or not, if royalty was visiting his ship, he needed to look his best.

As he arrived up on deck, he saw Bush by the railing, looking out through the spyglass. “What news, Mr. Bush?”

Bush turned, caught sight of Hornblower’s dress coat, and tried to restrain a smile. When Hornblower glared at him, he gave his report. “A chariot pulled up right to the very edge of the water. I believe they may be waiting for us to come to them.”

Hornblower exhaled slowly. “Then let’s go down to greet them, Mr. Bush.”

The two of them carefully climbed down the ladder and waded over to the chariot. Despite himself, Hornblower was astounded at the craftsmanship on display. It appeared to have been made entirely out of glass, with careful metalwork around the edges. He’d never seen that sort of technique among humans. How on earth could a species without thumbs even _manage_ this?

He turned his gaze upwards to take in the princess, only to find his jaw dropping open for the second time in as many days. Unlike the other horses, this one appeared to be the size of a regular horse. But that wasn’t what had caught Hornblower’s eye. The princess, in addition to being bright pink and sporting a tri-colored mane, had a pair of wings _and_ a unicorn horn. Pegasus and unicorns, he’d heard of. But a combination of the two? It meant that this was no doubt a very powerful creature. Who knew what it could do to his ship?

The princess alighted gracefully from the chariot and inclined her head at Hornblower and Bush. “Hello, Captain. I am Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, ruler of the Crystal Empire. Please, forgive my intrusion.”

Hornblower, despite feeling utterly ridiculous, bowed to her. “I believe I should be saying that of you. My ship is the one trespassing in your empire, after all.”

Cadenza laughed. “Oh, no, no, Captain, you misunderstand. The Crystal Empire is a separate kingdom from Equestria. I’m merely here on behalf of Princess Celestia. She wished to see you herself, but she has matters of state to attend to.”

“I understand that.” Hornblower said faintly. Empires, multiple princesses…just how large _was_ this island? Straightening up, he asked, “What brings you here, Princess Cadenza?”

She laughed again. “Oh, please, Captain, I don’t want to stand on too much formality. Princess Cadance will be fine. And to answer your question, I’m afraid it all hinges on a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?”

“Princess Celestia received a letter yesterday from Mayor Wedge, saying that a human ship had entered their port and was refusing assistance. No ship has ever done this before, so she came to the conclusion that there was something on board that the humans didn’t want them to see. Both Celestia and I highly doubt that this is the case, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. As such, Captain, would you be willing to allow my husband and I to take a tour of your ship, just to assuage any nervousness?”

Hornblower felt the old familiar pang of embarrassment. He’d thought keeping the horses and his ship separate would be better for all in the long run, but as usual, he’d miscalculated and was now staring down the face of an international incident. With talking horses, no less.

There was nothing for it. Putting on a polite smile, he nodded and stepped aside, gesturing to his ship. “Of course, Princess. I deeply apologize for causing any nervousness. Please, feel free to look around for as long as it takes to quell any fears.”

Cadenza (after all this, Hornblower felt it was safer to stand on ceremony) flashed him a warm smile. “Thank you, Captain. I assure you, this should take no more than an hour, if all is well.” She gestured to a unicorn that had appeared beside her, wearing armor that resembled that of Roman legionaries and was looking at him with an expression that was simultaneously friendly and wary. “My husband, Shining Armor.”

Hornblower bowed to him as well. “Welcome to the _Lydia_ , both of you. Will you be able to get on board on your own, or should I bring the ship closer to lay out a gangplank?”

“I think we can manage.” Cadenza said with a smile, nodding to her husband. At that, Shining Armor’s horn glowed, producing a reddish-pink bubble around him that lifted him into the air, while Cadenza spread her wings and flapped alongside him, both of them floating over to where the _Lydia_ was waiting. Even from this distance, Hornblower could hear the men’s excited voices, and did his level best to maintain his composure. “Come along, Mr. Bush,” he said, “Best not to keep our…distinguished guests waiting.”

By the time he and Bush had climbed back up on deck, Cadenza and her husband had already landed, and were looking around with interest, while Hornblower’s men had stopped all pretext of work and were openly staring at the new arrivals. “Resume your repairs!” Bush barked next to Hornblower, and Hornblower breathed a prayer of thanks that Bush’s tone always had such a no-nonsense air. Bush continued, “We don’t want to make our guests uncomfortable!”

The men jumped and guiltily resumed their duties. Hornblower approached the two horses again. “Forgive my men, Princess. They’ve never seen anything like…well, all of this before.”

“I understand. It’s natural to be curious. And they aren’t the only ones; I’ve never seen a ship like this before. I look forward to exploring it.”

Hornblower cleared his throat. “Yes, well…allow me to give you a tour. Mr. Bush, make sure the men continue their duties.”

And so he led the two horses through the ship, briefly explaining the purpose of each room and allowing them a few minutes to look around to make sure there was nothing suspicious. Both of them asked questions; Cadenza was curious about living conditions on board, Shining Armor about their weaponry and defensive capabilities. It seemed that he was a military ma…horse himself, and Hornblower warmed to him slightly, especially when Shining Armor seemed to find no fault with the layout of the guns.

True to Cadenza’s word, they emerged onto the deck an hour later. She smiled and inclined her head to Hornblower. “Thank you for your graciousness, Captain. I will be able to report to Princess Celestia and to the inhabitants of Baltimare that they have nothing to fear from your ship.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Hornblower said, giving a genuine smile back. Perhaps now they would be able to complete their repairs in peace.

Shining Armor gave him a salute and conjured up his bubble again, floating back to the beach. Cadenza was about to follow him when her eyes widened. “Oh, I almost forgot! Princess Celestia asked me to give this to you.”

She opened a small satchel that had been hanging by her side and withdrew a rolled up scroll of paper. “Good luck with your repairs, Captain.” she said, placing it into his hand before rising up into the air.

Hornblower waited until she had safely landed on the beach before breaking the seal and reading the contents. It was written in an elegant, swooping script, exactly what one might expect from royalty. The contents read as follows;

_My Dear Captain Hornblower,_

_I do apologize for any inconvenience Princess Cadance’s visit may have caused among your crew, but I am sure you understand my need to protect Equestria. I have no doubt that this is all a simple misunderstanding that can be cleared up by a tour of your ship, and you will be just as gracious as the other humans who have arrived here._

_However, as a gesture of goodwill, I would very much appreciate it if you, and perhaps your first officer, could come to Canterlot tomorrow to have a meal with me. I am sure you’re anxious to get underway, but this will reassure the populace that you mean us no harm._

_A chariot will arrive for you at eleven in the morning. I look forward to meeting with you._

_Sincerely,  
Princess Celestia_

Hornblower sighed. It was very prettily worded, but he knew an order when he saw one. But he supposed he could see the logic behind it; it was a diplomatic negotiation, of sorts, one that would cement the positive impression he’d just given Princess Cadenza. Besides, it was no doubt considered a great honor to dine with their Princess, and refusing would just be one more black mark on his reputation.

He approached Bush, who was still supervising the repairs to the mast—other than the cannons, this was the one area giving the men the most difficulty. “Mr. Bush, may I have a word?”

Bush nodded and followed Hornblower out of earshot of the men. “What is it, Captain?”

Hornblower handed him the letter. Bush read it over quickly, then looked back at him with an inquisitive, almost excited glint in his eye. Hornblower nodded. “Make sure your dress uniform is clean, Mr. Bush. It’s not every day that one is allowed to dine with royalty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious, this crossover is supposed to take place somewhere in Season 3 of Friendship is Magic, anywhere between the end of "The Crystal Empire" and "Keep Calm and Flutter On". I figured now was the best time to mention it.


	5. Luncheon

Taking the captain’s advice, Bush spent the evening cleaning his dress uniform, polishing the buttons until they sparkled. He did it for Hornblower’s sake as much as his own; he could tell that Hornblower very much wanted to make a good impression, especially now that his motives had been called into question. Two officers dressed in His Majesties’ finest would add an air of dignity to proceedings.

At five minutes to Eleven the next morning, he and Hornblower were on the beach, Hornblower trying to mask his nerves by discussing repairs. Bush was happy to report that the deck and sides of the ship had been patched and even repainted, but the masts were still proving difficult. “It’s hard to find wood to fill in the holes,” he said, “We’ll manage, but it might not be as strong as we’d hoped for. Once we’ve found a solution, we’ll tackle the sails. They look like they can be salvaged, but it’ll take a lot of sewing.”

“Very good, Mr. Bush,” Hornblower said, glancing skyward, “I’m sure the men are up to the task.”

Bush nodded and allowed a little bit of informality. “And I’m sure all will be well with the natives. You’ve done all you can to accommodate them, and I believe they’ll respect that.” Hornblower didn’t respond, but Bush thought he saw the captain’s shoulders relax a fraction.

The _Lydia_ was just striking six bells when a shadow passed overhead. As the final notes of the bell died away, a golden chariot pulled by two white, armored pegasus (pegasi?) landed in front of them. “Captain Hornblower?” one of the horses said.

Hornblower nodded. “And this is my First Lieutenant, William Bush.”

“A pleasure to meet you both,” the horse said, waving a hoof at the chariot. “If you’ll climb aboard, we can get underway at once.”

Hornblower hesitated. “Is it…is it safe?”

“Oh, yes, quite safe. There are spells on it to keep anyone from falling off. I take it your country has no means of flight?”

“That’s correct.” Hornblower swallowed slightly, glancing upwards again.

The stallion gave him a sympathetic smile. “It’ll take some getting used to, but there’s nothing like it in the world. Once we’ve been up in the air a while, you should enjoy it.”

Hornblower straightened up and climbed into the chariot, one hand firmly clutching the edge. Bush followed him, putting both hands on the golden surface, mostly to maintain his balance. The stallion glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were both aboard, and with a “Here we go!” the two horses bent their knees in unison and took off into the air.

Bush had expected the chariot to lurch forward, but it rose smoothly into the air along with the horses. Hornblower still shuddered visibly, though, and when Bush glanced at him, he had his eyes tightly closed. Bush knew it was wise to keep silent, instead watching with interest as clouds literally passed right before his eyes. He’d never been this high up before, and the feel of the wind in his face and the knowledge that he was so high up was oddly exhilarating. It helped that the chariot barely jolted; these two horses must have been very experienced flyers. Based on their armor, he wondered if Equestria had some sort of army that instilled such discipline in them. He’d have to ask this Princess Celestia, if he was allowed an opportunity to do so.

“If you two glance to your left,” one of the horses said after about twenty minutes, “You’ll be able to see Canterlot.” Bush immediately turned his head, and Hornblower reluctantly opened one eye, gaze resolutely focused in front of him. All they could see was clouds for a moment, but then they parted, revealing a tall, spired city built literally on the side of a mountain. Even from this distance, the city gleamed in the sunlight, making it a marvel to behold. Bush was impressed. Even with magic and flight at their disposal, it was a remarkable feat of engineering. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was sure Hornblower would shoot the idea down, Bush would have suggested opening negotiations for trade.

The two horses began their descent, gliding expertly over the city, allowing the riders a peek at the city proper. It seemed to be a bustling city, much like London, and certainly looked very elegant. So much so, in fact, that the horses below were actually wearing clothes. This land just got more and more interesting, it seemed.

At last, the horses flew over a tall gate and touched down on the courtyard below. Looking around, Bush knew that this must be the princess’ palace. The spires he’d seen from a distance now towered overhead, and there were more armored horses stationed at every door and staircase. Next to him, Hornblower removed his hands from the chariot and placed them behind his back. Now that they were safely on the ground, the captain was trying to project as much dignity as possible. When he shot Bush a look, Bush straightened up and raised his head. “After you, sir.” he said, gesturing to Hornblower to allow him out of the chariot.

As the two of them returned to solid ground, a tall set of doors opened, horns blared, and a tall, graceful horse appeared. Bush knew he was staring, but other than composing his face, wasn’t able to do much about it. Much like the princess that had visited them the day before, this princess had wings and a horn, but she was much, much different. For one thing, her mane and tail were multicolored, full of soft pinks, blues, and greens, and sparkled in the sunlight, as though she’d mixed precious gems in among the hair. Further, her mane and tail seemed to move continuously, even when she was standing still. She radiated elegance, nobility, and a quiet strength. Bush could expect no less from royalty.

Smiling, the princess descended the stairs and approached the two men. Even with her wings folded, she was a good head taller than Hornblower. “Captain Hornblower,” she said, in a soft but commanding voice, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for agreeing to dine with me.”

Hornblower bowed stiffly. “It is an honor to dine with you, Princess Celestia. May I introduce you to my first officer, Lieutenant William Bush?”

Celestia inclined her head at Bush. “I hope the flight wasn’t too rough. The weather ponies are preparing for a summer storm, and sometimes the winds can rattle the chariot.”

“No, it was perfectly smooth,” Bush assured her, “Your…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “Your men are very skilled flyers.”

Celestia’s smile grew brighter. “I’m so glad to hear that. Please, come along with me. We’ll take lunch in the dining room.”

She turned and led the way up to the castle, Bush and Hornblower on either side of her. “Unfortunately, my sister will be unable to join us. She very much wished to meet you, but it’s the time of year when we put the royal guards through their paces, and one of us had to oversee proceedings.”

“A pity,” Hornblower said, and though he was trying to sound pleasant, Bush could hear the caution lurking in his tone, “I would have liked to meet her.”

“Perhaps you’ll have an opportunity to see her later.” Celestia beckoned them through a door, where a small table was already set up, laden with fruit. “I’m afraid I have very little experience with entertaining humans, so I’m not sure how our diets differ. However, the reports I’ve received in regards to previous visitors say that both humans and horses enjoy fruit. I do hope this will be filling enough for you.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Hornblower said, standing by his chair until Celestia took a seat, “We appreciate the effort you went to to make sure we were comfortable.”

Celestia pushed the bowls towards them. “I asked the cook to find as many types of fruit as he could, so you’d have a variety to choose from. Do you like bananas? Apples? Pears? Pineapple?”

Bush allowed himself a faint smile as he reached for the pineapple. “I’ll have to try a bit of everything. I’ve only ever seen pineapples a few times.”

Hornblower cleared his throat, but Bush could swear he smiled faintly as he reached for a bowl of some sort of red fruit. Once the three of them had filled their plates, Celestia looked across the table at Hornblower. “It would be best, Captain, if we cleared the air as soon as possible. I am quite sure that your intentions are good, as your graciousness towards Princess Cadance and your willingness to dine with me signifies. However, I would like to hear it from your own lips. Are you here to scout out Equestria for your own ends?”

“No, your majesty,” Hornblower said, “As I told Mayor Wedge and Princess Cadance, our ship was damaged, and we came to your island solely to make repairs. Equestria isn’t even marked on any of our maps; we stumbled across it. Once repairs are complete, we’ll be on our way. If you wish, I will remove all references to this place from my logs, to ensure that no one else from England comes calling.”

“Thank you, Captain Hornblower,” Celestia said warmly, “That would probably be best for all parties. I will make sure to write to Mayor Wedge to tell her that Baltimare has nothing to fear from you.”

Hornblower smiled faintly. “Thank you, your majesty.”

Celestia lifted a slice of apple to her mouth using her magic, taking a dainty bite. Once she had swallowed, she fixed her gaze on Hornblower again. “If you don’t mind my asking, Captain, how are your repairs progressing?”

“Fairly rapidly, your majesty,” Hornblower said, “But I believe Lieutenant Bush knows more of the details.”

Celestia turned her gaze on Bush. Bush hastily swallowed his bite of pear. “Most of the minor repairs to the sides and upper deck have been completed. We’re having trouble repairing the mast, but we should be able to get it patched by tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest. Then there’s the matter of sewing the sails, which will take another day if I put most of the hands to work on it. Other than the cannons, I believe the ship will be ready to depart in another two days.”

“Cannons?” Celestia repeated, looking intently at Bush, though her look was more curious than suspicious. “What sort of cannons?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bush saw Hornblower glaring at him. Taking a steadying breath, Bush quickly rattled off the dimensions and firing capability of the cannons, unsure exactly what the princess was looking for. “But rest assured, we had no plans to use them on Equestria.” he concluded, hoping that would assuage both her and Hornblower’s concerns.

“You misunderstand,” Celestia said, “Equestria has been researching cannons for quite some time. We have a few rudimentary cannons, but it sounds like you humans have a design far superior to ours. Even when other ships have come in for repairs, we were never able to get a good look at them. I wonder…” she trailed off, looking between Hornblower and Bush, deep in thought. At last, she nodded decisively. “Captain Hornblower, would you consent to allowing the citizens of Baltimare to help you complete your repairs?”

“I beg your pardon, your majesty?” Hornblower was taken aback, though trying his best not to show it.

“It would only confirm the goodwill between you and the citizens, showing you have nothing to hide while simultaneously satisfying their curiosity. Many of them are quite skilled, and could help you complete your repairs even faster. And, perhaps most importantly, our metalsmiths would be able to look over your cannons, and perhaps construct new ones for you. That way, you would be able to leave with your ship completely repaired, and we’ll be able to incorporate what we learn into our own cannons.”

“I…” Hornblower was at a loss for words.

“If it’s money you’re concerned about, there would be no cost to you,” Celestia said, “Consider it an exchange, labor for ideas.”

Bush watched Hornblower’s posture, noting the way he clenched his fork and the faintest narrowing of his eyes. Having served under and alongside the man, Bush was growing more adept at recognizing Hornblower’s moods, even if he was loath to show them. In this case, he was frustrated at having been roped into this situation, and yet, saw no way out of it. Bush gave a slight nod in sympathy.

At last, Hornblower nodded. “It does seem to be a fair exchange. I thank you for your generosity.”

Celestia extended a hoof. “Let us shake on it, then, and considered the matter settled.”

Hornblower rose to his feet and leaned forward to clasp her hoof. She smiled and nodded as he let go. “Now, I don’t wish to keep you from your meal. Never let it be said that I let my guests leave hungry.”

Now that the business had been settled, the mood seemed to lighten somewhat. Celestia hadn’t been cold before, but now that an arrangement had been reached, she was much more open, happily answering Bush’s questions or telling little stories of the reports of the humans who had visited previously. Hornblower listened and was very gracious, but didn’t contribute much to the conversation. Bush suspected he was turning things over in his mind, trying to figure out how to complete repairs as fast as possible so as not to risk causing an incident.

When lunch was over, Celestia walked them back out to the chariot. “I will draft a letter to Mayor Wedge right away, telling her to send over some woodworkers and metalsmiths. By tomorrow morning, you should have a small army of workers ready to assist you.”

Hornblower inclined his head. “We will move the ship closer to the beach in order to accommodate them.”

“Oh, one more thing,” Celestia said, as Hornblower climbed into the chariot, “I would very much like to know what my metalsmiths learn about the cannons. Unfortunately, royal business will prevent me or my sister from being able to visit to see for ourselves, and I suspect the same holds true for Mayor Wedge. So I will be sending my student, Twilight Sparkle, to keep me informed of what we learn. Besides which, she is very skilled in magic and could help your repairs along still faster, since I’m sure you would like to set out again as soon as possible. I trust that is agreeable to you?”

Hornblower cleared his throat before replying. “Yes, your majesty.”

Celestia gave the two of them a bright smile. “It was a pleasure meeting both of you. Perhaps we’ll be able to speak again once your repairs are complete. Good luck!”

Hornblower didn’t speak as the chariot took off once more, though whether it was due to the height or being lost in his own thoughts, Bush couldn’t say. For his part, he spent the flight back considering all that would be needed to get the ship ready for the additional hooves on deck. One thing was certain; he’d need to make sure the crew were on their best behavior. Hornblower would expect no less, and perhaps it would impress the ponies (Celestia having informed him that that’s what they preferred to be called). They might not be an official diplomatic envoy, but they could do their best to act like one.


	6. Celestia's Spies

Once he was safely on land again, Hornblower spent the rest of the day in his cabin, mulling things over. While he certainly would be delighted to have his cannons in working order again, the fact that it came at the price of giving a foreign country a glimpse of British weaponry didn’t sit well with him. In another circumstance, this could be considered as giving information to the enemy. His only consolation was that Equestria seemed to be practicing a strict isolationist policy, and were unlikely to turn their cannons towards Britain anytime soon. Perhaps he could sign some sort of official pact with Princess Celestia to ensure that fact.

But that was something to deal with later. More pressing was the issue of the “help” the princess was providing them. She’d all but openly stated that her student was being sent as a spy to make sure the _Lydia_ held up their end of the bargain. Logically, he understood her rationale, but he couldn’t help but bristle at the fact that she didn’t trust him. Now he would always have someone breathing down his neck, and he’d have to be even more on his guard.

As much as it irritated him, though, he knew there was nothing he could do about it, other than be as gracious as possible. He would be as accommodating as he could be to the princess’ “eyes”, and make sure the reports she sent back was favorable. Thus determined but still unsure of what the morning would bring, Hornblower finally went to bed at midnight, falling asleep with thoughts of repairs swirling through his head.  
***

“Sir?” Midshipman Knyvett’s voice came through the door, “Lieutenant Bush’s compliments. He says a chariot is approaching. I believe the guests you mentioned are arriving.”

“Thank you, Knyvett,” Hornblower said, smoothing down his neckerchief one last time, “I’ll be up at once.”

“Aye, sir.” Once Knyvett’s footsteps had retreated, Hornblower took a deep breath, straightened up, and went out to meet Princess Celestia’s envoy.

His timing was impeccable; he arrived on deck just as the chariot touched down. His neutral expression faltered slightly when he got a good look at what was in the chariot. Not only were there _six_ horse heads sticking out of the chariot, looking up at the _Lydia_ curiously, but the carriage section was overflowing with boxes. Hornblower sighed and put his hands behind his back, recomposing himself. They’d find a place for everything, if necessary.

One by one, the six horses (ponies, he reminded himself) descended from the chariot, a purple unicorn leading the way. They clustered around the gangplank the men had laid out for them, the unicorn putting one hoof tentatively on the wood. “Permission to come aboard, captain?” she called out, before shaking her head, “Ooh, I do hope I got that right!”

“Permission granted,” Hornblower responded, lifting his hat, “Welcome aboard, all of you.”

He’d planned to use the time they spent coming up the gangplank trying to take their measure, but before he could even take in the other five ponies, a pink blur shot up the gangplank and jumped onto the railing, and he suddenly found himself nose to nose with one of them. “Hi!” the pony practically shouted, her voice high and squeaky, “Are you the captain? You must be, since you’ve got such shiny gold stuff on your shoulders. No one else has anything _near_ as nice, and I know all the big military people get things the regular old army guys don’t. Twilight’s brother looks _way_ more decked out than any of the other royal guard. Why aren’t you wearing armor? You totally should, you know, it’ll keep you safe.”

She (with that voice, the pony _had_ to be female) was speaking incredibly rapidly, slow enough for Hornblower to understand, but too fast for him to get a word in edgewise. All he could do was take a few steps backwards and hold up a hand, though he wasn’t sure if he was doing it to get her to quiet down or to ward her off.

“Pinkie!” the purple unicorn said, a note of fond exasperation in her voice, “He won’t be able to answer anything if you don’t give him a chance to explain it. Besides, I think it would be better if we all introduced ourselves first.”

“Oh. Ok!” Pinkie beamed at Hornblower and jumped off the railing to rejoin the group of ponies. Blinking, Hornblower raised his hat again. “Captain Horatio Hornblower of the _HMS Lydia_ , at your service.”

The purple unicorn smiled and inclined her head. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia’s student. I was originally going to come alone, but my friends were there when I got the letter, and they all insisted on coming along. I hope that doesn’t put you out.”

“Not at all,” Hornblower said, resisting the urge to grit his teeth, “Although…it might be easier for everyone if you tried to find rooms in town instead of bunking on the ship. We’re a bit cramped for space as it is.”

“Oh, of course!” Twilight agreed, “We wouldn’t want to make things difficult. I completely understand the need to get everything in order. I was going to suggest going through the ship and making a proper checklist of the things to be done once we were finished with the introductions. That way, we can figure out the most efficient order!”

Her eyes were practically glowing at the idea of checklists and order, to the point that Hornblower would have classified it as “fanatic zeal”. Still, the idea had merit, so he merely nodded. “I’ll give you a tour of the ship once we’re finished here. Why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”

Twilight smiled and stepped aside, gesturing to each of the ponies as they came forward, holding out a hoof. “This is Applejack…”

“Mighty nice to meet ya!” A sandy-haired pony said, shaking his hand vigorously.

“Fluttershy…”

“Um…hi.” The yellow pegasus barely touched his hand before squeaking and running back to the safety of the group.

“Rarity…”

“A pleasure.” To Hornblower’s surprise, the white unicorn’s voice bore traces of an English accent. He wondered if it had crept into usage due to other British visitors to Equestria.

“Rainbow Dash…”

“Sup.” The other pegasus looked almost bored to be there, though at least she gave a proper handshake.

“And you’ve already met Pinkie Pie.” Twilight concluded.

“Hornblower, huh?” Pinkie said, shaking his hand so hard and fast that his arm continued to wobble even after she let go, “Does that mean your cutie mark is a trumpet? Or a saxophone? Ooh, ooh, or a tuba? _Please_ tell me it’s a tuba!”

Hornblower blinked at her. “What sort of mark?”

Pinkie gasped dramatically. “You mean you don’t get cutie marks wherever you come from? That’s _so_ weird! How do you figure out what you’re good at, then?” Before he could answer, she turned to the side and pointed to her flank, which had three balloons in a triangle pattern branded onto it. “ _That’s_ a cutie mark,” she explained, “And it means that my super-special talent is throwing parties!” She gasped again, sounding much happier. “Oh my gosh! I need to throw a ‘welcome to the weirdo humans’ party! I’ll get started on that as soon as we finish the tour!”

Now completely perplexed, but happy to have gotten back on track, Hornblower interrupted her. “We should get started on that tour, then. I’ll introduce you to the crew as we go along.”

“Right!” Twilight said decisively, “I’ll get that checklist drawn up. Spike!”

“Coming, Twilight!” A small, purple and green reptilian creature suddenly appeared on deck, a roll of parchment and quill pen in hand. “Who’s this?” Hornblower said, wondering how many _other_ friends Twilight had brought along.

“Oh, this is Spike, my assistant. He tends to be my scribe in situations like this.”

“And he’s…not a pony.” Hornblower said, mostly to make sure he had all his facts straight.

“Oh, no,” Twilight laughed, “He’s a baby dragon.”

Hornblower’s eyes widened. After taking a moment to try to come up with a diplomatic turn of phrase, he finally said “Forgive me for being impolite, Miss Sparkle, but I believe it would be unwise for your assistant to come aboard. We are a wooden ship, with many flammable objects. Gunpowder in particular is highly volatile; one spark and this entire ship could be destroyed.”

Twilight clapped a hoof to her forehead. “You’re right! Ugh, I don’t know how I could forget something like that. Spike, give me that. You help get the luggage into the nearest inn.”

Spike looked both disappointed and resigned as he handed over paper and pen. “All right, Twilight. Good luck.” Then he turned and headed back down the gangplank.

“Now then,” Twilight said, unfolding the parchment as the glow came back to her eyes, “Shall we get started on that checklist?”


	7. The "Welcome to the Weirdo Humans" Party

“Come in, Lieutenant Bush,” an orange, blue-haired unicorn said, stepping aside as he opened the door and pointing down the hall with a hoof, “the welcome party is just down that way, in the largest ballroom. You won’t be able to miss it.”

Bush nodded his thanks, doffing his hat respectfully and making his way towards the faint sound of music. He’d stayed behind on the _Lydia_ to make sure everything was secure before joining the rest of the crew, Hornblower included, at the party that Pinkie Pie (Bush still couldn’t help but smile at that name) was throwing in their honor. He did feel a bit guilty about leaving his captain in the lurch, but Hornblower had made it clear that repairs to the ship took precedence, and besides, he had the whole crew to fall back on if need be. Besides, perhaps everyone would be more relaxed now that the party had been going for an hour or so.

When he reached the door to the ballroom, Bush pushed it open without preamble, since it seemed that the ponies weren’t ones to stand on ceremony except where princesses were concerned. Once again, he found himself impressed by what these ponies were capable of; Pinkie had only decided to throw this party earlier that day, and yet the large room was fully decorated. Thin, multi-colored papers were strung across every wall, the floor was covered with smaller flecks of the same paper, and odd, oval shaped items were floating in the air, bumping against the ceiling or tied securely to tables, which were loaded with a variety of food and drink. A strange device in the corner was the source of the music, and both humans and ponies alike were dancing to it. Even from the doorway, Bush could see the crew mingling with the ponies, apparently at their ease. Perhaps some distrust still lingered, but the ability to actually interact with their hosts apparently allowed curiosity to win out.

A pink head popped up by his elbow. “Hi!” Pinkie said, grinning widely, “I’m so happy you made it! Come on, enjoy the party!”

“Thank you,” Bush said, letting the door close behind him, “If I may, where is Captain Hornblower?”

Pinkie gestured over to a corner, where Hornblower was leaning against the wall, his back ramrod straight, looking down at Miss Sparkle, who had the list of repairs hovering in front of her, talking animatedly. “Twilight grabbed him as soon as he arrived. I think she wants to make sure he likes the order she wants to do the repairs in. I _told_ her that could wait till tomorrow, but you know Twilight, always wanting to make sure things are going right. I’ll probably try to drag her away in a few minutes. Till then, I’ve got some dancing to do!”

Waving at Bush, Pinkie bounced off towards the dance floor. Bush smiled after her and made his way to the refreshment table. Hornblower had no doubt noted his presence, and he had nothing important to report. Besides, he’d officially gone “on leave” once he left the ship, the least he could do was have a drink to ease the tension in his shoulders.

As he was pouring a glass of punch, someone bumped into him. “Sorry,” said the pony, before looking up at him with a grin. “Why, Lieutenant Bush! I didn’t see you come in! I’d been hopin’ to get a chance to speak with you!”

Even if he hadn’t recognized the odd drawl to the pony’s voice, the apples on her flank gave her away. “A pleasure, Miss Applejack. What did you want to speak with me about?”

“Nothin’ real important,” Applejack admitted, “This is supposed to be a party, after all. I just wanted to apologize if I gave you a scare earlier today, when we were looking over the masts. I probably should have asked your permission first, but that’s the best way I know to deal with ailing trunks, so…”

“No apology is necessary,” Bush said with a smile, “No harm was done, and it sounds like your method can help us make full repairs. It might have been unorthodox, but it got results.”

Applejack gave a wide grin. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll leave you be now to enjoy the party. Pinkie always throws good ones!”

Bush watched her trot away, sipping at the punch (which was incredibly sweet but not unpleasant) and remembering the incident in question…

_“Right now, we’re having the biggest trouble with the masts,” Bush said, gesturing to the inexpertly patched gashes on the mizzenmast, “We can’t quite seem to fill the holes properly.”_

_Miss Sparkle nodded and started scribbling it down. “We may be able to patch it with magic. Sometimes it allows for a neater fit.”_

_“Perhaps,” Bush said, taking her word for it, “But if all else fails, I suppose we could try to carve a new one, if you’d be willing to let us take a tree.”_

_“Aw, shucks,” Applejack spoke up for the first time since she’d introduced herself, “No need to waste a good tree if this one can be fixed. Let me take a look.”_

_She trotted around the mast, peering at the damage. “Still looks pretty solid to me,” she declared, “Only one way to be sure, though.”_

_Before anyone could say anything, she lifted her back hooves and gave the mast a firm kick, right in the damaged area. Bush sucked in a surprise breath, and Hornblower’s hands came out from behind his back, rising up in protest. But other than the **thunk** sound when her hooves met the wood, nothing happened. Applejack nodded in satisfaction. “See? Wood’s solid. Whoever constructed this mast of yours knew what they were doin’. You just need to get the right patch.” Noticing the men staring at her, she blinked curiously. “What? Did I miss something?”_

_“We should move on,” Hornblower said, as color started coming back to his face, “I believe the sails are next…”_

“Lieutenant!” A musical voice called out, shaking him out of his reverie, “Do join us!”

Bush obligingly moved away from the table and approached the two mares sitting on chairs up against the wall. “Miss Rarity. Miss Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy squeaked, blushed, and shrank against her friend, while Rarity ran a hoof through her mane in a way that could only be described as preening. “I _do_ like the way you address us,” she said with a smile, “I see that being a gentleman spans all countries.”

Bush felt himself grow a little warm. “Politeness to a lady should be universal.”

“I quite agree,” Rarity said, sipping at her own drink, “Something that sadly seems to be forgotten more often than not. I’m glad you and your men are so polite, even though this must be rather odd for them.”

“We do our best to make good first impressions.” Bush said modestly.

“It would be hard not to, with those uniforms of yours,” Rarity answered, gesturing to his coat, “I remember seeing something like them once before, and thought they were rather plain, but the way you wear them…it’s magnificent. I’ll have to track down the old outfit I saw and give it another look. Of course, that can wait until after I’ve finished repairing your sails.”

“Are you quite sure that we can’t help you with them?” Bush asked again, “It seems a rather big job for just one pony.”

“Oh, no,” Rarity said, “I can manage quite well. Besides, I enjoy a challenge. I assure you, Mr. Bush, when I return these sails to you, they’ll be better than ever before!”

Bush admired both her confidence and her determination. “I’m sure they will,” he said, before turning to the other pony. “Have you been enjoying the party, Miss Fluttershy?”

“It’s…nice,” she said, so quietly that Bush had to lean forward to hear her over the music, “I’m just not used to being around so many ponies. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Well, that’s why I said you could stay by me all evening if you had to,” Rarity said, smiling fondly at the pegasus, “The last thing any of us want is for you to be uncomfortable.”

“Agreed,” Bush said, hoping his voice sounded reassuring, “We’re inconveniencing you enough as it is.”

“Oh, it’s not an inconvenience!” Rarity protested, “It’s more like an adventure! And I for one am glad to be part of it!”

Bush raised his cup to her. “I’m happy to toast to that.”  
***

The party went on until well into the night, and though Bush kept a close eye on the men, everyone remained on his best behavior, though whether that was due to the newness of the situation or the lack of alcohol and women, he couldn’t say. For his part, he sampled most of the baked goods (at Pinkie’s urging), officiated a few of the “party games” (Pin the Tail on the Pony was a rather unusual concept, but everyone else took it in stride), and generally enjoyed himself immensely.

He also had time to chat with the various ponies who would be helping to complete repairs. Most of them had cutie marks that related to building, which reassured Bush that they had some form of experience. A few of them had even worked on ships, none as grand as the _Lydia_ , but at least they had some idea of what they were dealing with. It was enough to tell Bush that despite the initial concerns, repairs would be completed at a quick pace, with the possible exception of the cannons, which would probably take a week or more.

Then there was Rainbow Dash, who had been part of the group that arrived that morning. Unlike the others, Bush had had to seek her out, rather than being called over. She was a pony who couldn’t sit still, moving from refreshment table to dance floor to party games until she got bored and went on to something else. As such, his conversation with her was incredibly brief, and mostly revolved around her bragging about her speed. “I’ll help you get your ship repaired in _days!_ ” she said, when Bush mentioned the current timeframe of one week, “It’ll be a snap!” Before Bush could answer, another song started playing, and she gave a hasty goodbye before zipping back to the dance floor. He looked forward to seeing her apply that energy to the repairs.

The one pony he _didn’t_ get a chance to talk to was Miss Sparkle. Despite Pinkie’s best efforts, she’d never managed to pull herself or Hornblower away from her list. Instead, Bush had gotten a chance to talk to her assistant, Spike—at least, in-between Spike hurrying over to freshen her drink or get her another quill. It was a shame Spike wouldn’t be allowed on board, as he was pleasant company and seemed eager to learn all about the ship. It seemed like he knew how to control his fire for the most part, and Bush decided to ask Hornblower to allow the young dragon on board, at least for a short time. But in deference to the captain, he would wait until they had made decent headway on the repairs.

When the clock struck midnight, Hornblower finally pulled himself away from the wall. “I believe it’s time to cut the evening short,” he called out, “Thank you for your hospitality, and the rest of you may certainly continue your celebrations if you wish, but it’s time for us to return to the _Lydia_. I want my crew rested up to begin repairs tomorrow.”

There were murmurs of disappointment from human and pony alike, but the men obligingly saluted and started making their way towards the doors. Pinkie waved them all off with a giant smile. “See you in the morning!” she chirped, “And I hope my party gave you super-duper extra energy so you can be all excited about going to work tomorrow!”

The men certainly seemed to be in high spirits, laughing and talking amongst themselves as they walked back to the beach. Bush lingered behind them, falling in step alongside Hornblower. “Did you enjoy the welcome party, sir?” he asked.

“It was good for morale,” Hornblower said, “And I believe Miss Sparkle and I have worked out the most efficient way to go about repairs. All in all, the evening was satisfactory.”

The tone in his voice made it clear that he wasn’t in a mood for conversation, so Bush left him be. He couldn’t help but feel, however, that Hornblower had rather missed the entire point of the evening.


	8. Ponies Underfoot

Hornblower hadn’t been at all sure what to expect when the ponies came aboard to assist in the repairs. He had hoped that Bush and the other officers would have been in charge of the proceedings, treating the ponies as just another division. Or perhaps Twilight and her friends would be in charge of the other ponies, while his men were in charge of them. Unfortunately, that didn’t appear to be the case.

“This way!” Twilight said cheerfully, waving her repair list over her head as she led a mixed group of men and pony crews to the masts, “I’ve concluded that this is the section most in need of repair, and where we should focus the most energy. Split up into three groups. Those with the greatest woodworking skill, work on the mast in the middle. Those with middling skill, follow Applejack. The rest of you, stay with me and just follow my lead.”

“Aye-aye, M’aam!” the group chorused cheerfully. Hornblower couldn’t possibly fathom how his men were able to take the fact that they were being bossed around by a talking purple unicorn in stride. Did no one else on board have a healthy dose of skepticism? No, apparently he was alone in this. Even Lieutenant Bush was talking unconcernedly to one of the craftsponies, apparently discussing the cannons. Still, even if he didn’t share their enthusiasm, the least Hornblower could do was cooperate and put on an agreeable demeanor.

With that in mind, he made his way around the ship, looking in on the various repair jobs. He had to admit, work was progressing much faster with the extra help. The masts were starting to look like actual masts again, instead of cobbled together bits of wood. And the holes in the deck were now completely patched, and were being sanded down by another group of men and ponies, who were focused intently on the job. Hornblower nodded his satisfaction.

“How’s it going over here?” A beaming voice squeaked out, and Hornblower’s hands curled behind his back as Pinkie Pie popped into view. He wasn’t sure if it was her voice or her obnoxiously cheery personality that grated on him more, all he knew what that he couldn’t seem to get away from her. At least her attention wasn’t focused on him this time. “Hmm, it’s looking good, but…everybody looks so _serious_! I know work isn’t fun, but that just means we need to find ways to _make_ it fun!”

There were murmurs of agreement, to Hornblower’s dismay. Pinkie trotted back and forth for a minute, lost in thought. Then she gasped in delight, bouncing on the spot. “I know! A song! It’ll give you something to do, plus if we all can time the motions with the words, we can all work in harmony and make the deck look nice and even! Do you have any good ‘deck sanding’ songs?”

“I’m afraid not, m’aam,” one of Hornblower’s men piped up, “And I don’t know if our normal sea shanties would make sense to you and the other ponies.”

“Ooh, you have songs too? You’ll have to teach them to me! But for now, I’ll just make something up. One second!”

Hornblower, who had blanched at the mention of music, was now attempting to get belowdecks, but had to navigate through the bits of equipment that had been set out for the job. Thus, he was still on deck when Pinkie burst out into song.

“ _Sand, sand, sand the deck,  
Work the stone and bend your neck,  
Our skills are put to the test,  
We need to do our very best,_

_We won’t stop for a glass of milk,_  
Until it all looks smooth as silk,  
Then give the wood a tidy shine,  
And this old ship will look just fine!”

The men actually burst out in applause. Hornblower couldn’t see Pinkie’s face, but he was sure she was beaming from ear to ear. “Aw, it’s nothing, really. I just whipped it up, seeing as we’re in a hurry and all. I’d have come up with a better one if I’d had some time to really punch up the rhymes. Come on, now, everybody sing with me!”

Mercifully, Hornblower finally managed to get below before the caterwauling began in earnest.  
***

One advantage of being the ship’s captain was that you could barricade yourself in your cabin for long stretches and no one would think twice about it. Hornblower was never more grateful for that privilege than he was right now. Even though it had only existed for three hours, that damn song had caught on, and now the entire crew was singing some variation of it, changing the lyrics to suit the task at hand. He couldn’t walk five paces without hearing that noise ringing in his ears; even in the safety of his cabin, he could still hear a low murmuring. He’d always tolerated the various shanties the men sung, since it wasn’t his place to ban music entirely from the ship, but for the whole crew to be doing it all at once struck him as a bit much.

He glanced around the cabin, wondering what excuse he could give for remaining in there if anyone should come knocking. He’d already eaten the afternoon meal, there was no paperwork to be done, he’d written up what little correspondence he had, and Twilight had already drafted up a repair schedule. There wasn’t much reason for him to be in here. Except…

Hornblower made up his mind. Perhaps it was a little unorthodox, but, well, this was an unorthodox situation. Quickly, he sent for his steward. “Ask the kitchens to heat up some water,” he said when Polwheal appeared, “It’s been warm enough today that I believe a bath is in order to remove the worst of the sweat.”

Polwheal, as befitted a good steward, made no comment about his taking a bath in the middle of the afternoon. Instead, he knuckled his forehead and retreated to the kitchens. Hornblower remained at his desk, fiddling with papers and trying to look busy, until Polwheal returned and announced the bath was ready. Then Hornblower rose to his feet and made his way to the private bath, stripping off his clothes on the way.

Lying in the bath, Hornblower could feel some of his tension slipping away. He couldn’t really hear the singing from in here, and unlike when he was sitting at his desk, no one but Polwheal would disturb him. Here, he could just relax and temporarily forget about the unusual situation going on on his ship. He closed his eyes and let the water wash over him, content to let it grow cool before he finally emerged.

The peace was shattered by a splintering, crashing noise, and Hornblower sat up at once, automatically assuming they were under attack. Instead, he saw a large hole in the center window, and a grey pegasus sitting, dazed, on the floor, a satchel hung around its neck. As Hornblower gaped, it shook its head and sprung back to its feet, apparently unfazed by smashing through a window, though he couldn’t help but notice that its eyes seemed a bit off-kilter. “Oops!” the pegasus said apologetically, the voice revealing it to be yet another female (Hornblower was starting to wonder if this was a matriarchal society; it seemed to be three mares to a stallion around here), “Sorry! Sometimes it’s hard for me to judge distances, and I could have sworn your window was open!”

“Are you all right?” Hornblower asked, figuring it was best to be polite, even if he’d been the one rudely intruded upon. Still, he was glad that he’d spent a few minutes giving his body a token wash, since now there was a thin layer of bubbles keeping the mare from learning more about human anatomy than she ever wanted to.

“I’m fine!” she said cheerfully, flipping open her satchel and withdrawing a letter, “Is Applejack here? I’ve got a letter from Ponyville for her. They said it was important.”

“I believe she’s up on deck. She the one with orange fur, blonde mane and the apple…cutie mark.” Hornblower pointed to the door, not wanting her to do even more damage to the window. “Through this door, then through the door at the far end of the room, and you’ll be up on deck. You should be able to find her then.”

“Thank you!” the mare said, sidestepping the glass on the floor and heading for the door. Her hoof had just touched the knob when she paused and looked back at him. “Um, I hate to intrude any more than I already have, but…is there anywhere on this ship where I could get something to eat? It’s a long flight from Ponyville to Baltimare, and I had to leave before breakfast.”

“Oh! Er…” Hornblower decided to continue to err on the side of politeness. “Ask the cook. Someone on deck can show you where it is.”

“Thanks! And I’m sorry about your window.” With that, she was gone, leaving Hornblower sitting, baffled, in the tub, the breeze carrying the sounds of singing in through the hole in the window.

After carefully getting out of the tub and getting dressed once more, Hornblower returned to the deck, trying to seek out Twilight. On the way, though, Applejack waved him over. “I’m mighty sorry to trouble you,” she said apologetically, holding up the letter, “But I just got a letter from Big Mac, back at my farm in Ponyville. The trees are suffering from some sort of blight, and they need my help to give ‘em a good spraying. I know you want to get your ship fixed as soon as possible, but I can’t just neglect my farm.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Hornblower said with a genuine smile. He admired her dedication to her home and family, and what’s more, it would mean one less pony in his hair (though if he was honest with himself, Applejack hadn’t been any trouble to him, other than that little incident with the mast). So he just nodded and continued “Take as much time as you need. We have enough help here. Who knows, perhaps we’ll finish the job while you’re gone.”

“You just might, at that. They’re good workers, all of them.” Applejack grinned and tossed her head. “Well, best to get back to the hotel and ask Spike to send a letter to the princess so she can send over a chariot. I don’t have any time to waste if I don’t want to lose my orchard! Good luck with the repairs, Captain!”

With that, she trotted over to the gangplank, where the grey pegasus was waiting; apparently the plan was for them to fly back together. It looked like she was nibbling at something she held in her hoof, but Hornblower couldn’t quite make it out from this distance. Apparently the cook had been able to oblige her. Small wonder, though, since Pinkie kept diving below decks to “help feed everybody! You can’t work on an empty stomach, silly!” According to the cook, they had enough food—mostly of the sweet variety—to fill the bellies of three hundred men. Well, at least the repair crews would be well-fed.

Hornblower returned to the task of locating Twilight, finally spotting her at the other end of the ship, examining the sanding down of the deck. “Miss Sparkle?” He said, when she glanced in her direction, “Forgive me, but there was an…incident a few minutes ago, and I have another item for your checklist. The Captain’s bath needs replacement glass for one of its windows.”

Twilight glanced over the side of the ship, no doubt spotting Applejack and the messenger, and rolled her eyes. “Say no more. I’ll make sure that’s the first thing we work on tomorrow. In the meantime, is there anything you can use to cover up the hole?”

Hornblower nodded, hoping his despair didn’t show on his face. With people and ponies moving in and out of his cabin, now he had no excuse to retreat there. He could only pray that the repairs to the bath were completed quickly; there was only so much of this situation that he could take at one time.


	9. Changes

“Carefully, now!” Bush roared, as the cannon wobbled ominously in its sling, “We don’t want to cause even _more_ damage!”

“Aye-aye, sir!” Midshipman Clay said nervously, tightening his grip on the rope. Next to him, a unicorn with a bright orange coat stepped forward and sent a beam of magic at the cannon, no doubt trying to make it lighter or keep it steady. Bush nodded his thanks and looked up at the two pegasi that were holding onto the rope. “Is everything all right with you?”

“Yes, sir!” one of them answered, “We’ll be ready to lower the cannon as soon as the cart’s in place.”

Bush nodded, allowing himself a faint smile. He’d expected the job of removing the damaged cannons to take the better part of a day, but if this first cannon was any indication, they would be finished by the afternoon. Who would have thought that unicorns and pegasi would help make the old block-and-tackle system even more efficient?

On the beach, two ponies backed a cart into position. “Ready when you are, Mr. Bush!”

Bush took a moment to make sure everything was in place, then waved a hand. “Lower away!”

Carefully, men and pony alike fed out the rope, and the cannon dropped inch by inch until it finally was settled onto the bed of the cart, at which point the pegasi flew down to start untying the ropes. “Mr. Gear’s sending another cart!” one of the harnessed ponies called up, “It should arrive long before you have the next cannon ready! Hopefully that’ll help speed up the process somewhat!”

“Excellent! Thank him for me when you get back to his smithy!” The pegasi nodded their approval and closed the back end of the cart, and Bush waved it off before turning back to the crew still on deck. “Let’s try to keep the dawdling to a minimum, shall we? Get a drink if you need it, then head down below to start moving out the next cannon.”

Everyone saluted and moved off. Bush waited until the crowd had thinned a little before making his way below. It was remarkable how much a little extra help could make. The ponies had been on board for three days now, and most of the repairs had been completed. Even the captain’s broken window had been replaced. All that was left now was the cannons, and once those had been removed, it was a matter of waiting. After everything the men had done, they deserved a rest, if not a proper leave. That is, if Hornblower was willing to give it.

Bush couldn’t help but chuckle. Hornblower was the only one not getting into the spirit of things. The rest of the crew had adjusted surprisingly quickly to the idea of sharing space with talking ponies, and chatted with them affably, as if the whole lot had served together for years. Hornblower, on the other hand, tried to minimize contact with the ponies as much as possible, except for brief discussions with Miss Sparkle over how repairs were progressing and where to concentrate their efforts next. It seemed that, even if his ship was “infested” with ponies, he, at least, would try to maintain a polite distance. It was the captain’s choice to make, of course, but Bush couldn’t help but feel like he was missing a great opportunity.

The crew were gathering around the next cannon now, gently pushing it out of its place in the gunline. Bush turned his attention back to them, unable to resist tapping his foot as they burst into what had come to be known as “The Sea Horse Shanty.”  
***

“Yes?” Hornblower said, the irritation palpable in his voice even through the door.

Bush saluted as he answered. “You wished to be informed when the guns had all been taken safely off the _Lydia_ , sir.”

“Ah.” Hornblower nodded, “Did the…blacksmith give any indication of when he thought the new cannons would be ready?”

“He came round as we were sending the last cannon off. His initial estimate is about a week, but he believes he’ll get it down to five days once he’s had a good chance to dismantle one of our broken cannons.”

“Very good, Mr. Bush,” Hornblower said, looking back down at his papers, “Give my regards to the crew for their efficiency.”

“Aye sir.” Bush hesitated, then chose to take the risk. “If I may, sir…”

“What is it, Mr. Bush?”

“Well, sir, all major repairs have been completed on the _Lydia_. All that’s left are the cannons and the sails. And the men have worked tirelessly on the repairs. Do I have your permission to grant them a leave, of sorts?”

Hornblower sighed. “You may, Mr. Bush. But tell them that if they wish to visit the town, they can only go in groups of three. And they are not to trade with the locals.”

“I’ll relay the message, sir.”

“Oh, and tell them that they’ll be allowed an extra ration of spirits tonight.”

“There’s no need for that, Captain. Pinkie—I mean, Miss Pie—worked with one of the ponies in town and whipped up a barrel of cider that she promises will have quite the kick. She’s been saving it for when most of the repairs were completed.”

Bush couldn’t help but notice that Hornblower’s back stiffened at the mention of Pinkie. But his voice remained even as he said. “They may have the extra ration anyway. Perhaps some of them would like to mix their drinks.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Dismissed, Mr. Bush.”

Once outside, Bush rounded up the crew and made the announcement. The men cheered, and gave a few Huzzahs for Hornblower before dispersing. Bush nodded his approval and decided to make one last round of the ship before he went on “leave” himself.

He poked through each room, smiling whenever he saw evidence of the repairwork. Even the bare masts and gaps in the gunline were a reassurance of sorts that the _Lydia_ would be fighting fit in no time at all. He would have to write a sincere letter of thanks to both Mayor Wedge and Princess Celestia for all the help they’d given.

When he entered the storage rooms to take a cursory glance at their foodstuffs, he ran into Fluttershy, who was humming to herself and happily feeding the cows. Bush coughed lightly, and she turned red and squeaked before turning to face him. “O-oh, Mr. Bush!” she said, smiling, “It’s good to see you. I thought you said everyone would be allowed to rest for a while?”

“That I did,” Bush said, “But I just wanted to make sure everything was in order. I didn’t expect to run into anyone down below.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, her blush deepening, “But when I heard you had animals down here, I just _had_ to come and see them. And they’re _so_ sweet, and fattening up nicely now that there’s fresh hay and oats for them.” She patted the nearest cow, who lowed happily. “I do hope my own animals are being taken care of while I’m away. I trust Zecora, of course, but…I can’t help but worry.”

“I’m sure they’re just fine,” Bush smiled, “And they miss you as much as you miss them.”

“It’ll be so nice to see them once I get back to Ponyville,” Fluttershy agreed, “But it’s nice to meet some new friends too. What do they do on board?”

“I…beg your pardon?”

“Well, you have the officers who come up with the plans and give orders, and the crew who carry them out. But what do the animals do? Are they just meant for companionship, or do they help the crew in some way?”

Bush prayed the color wasn’t draining out of his face. Thanks to Pinkie, the crew had been eating well, and they hadn’t had to dip into their supplies. That meant that they hadn’t been eating a great deal of meat, and thus, the ponies hadn’t gotten a sense of normal human eating habits. How on earth was he going to explain this?

Fluttershy was looking up at him with those big blue eyes of hers, smiling innocently. Bush’s nerve failed him utterly, and he said, “Yes, they help keep the crew’s morale up by…providing them with the comforts of home and…helping keep them warm on cold nights.”

“And I’m sure you do an excellent job of that, don’t you?” Fluttershy cooed at the cows. Bush clasped his hands behind his back. “You may stay below with the animals if you wish. I’m going to finish my rounds and then join the others to try your friend Pinkie’s cider.”

“I’ll be up in a few minutes. I’m almost done feeding them.” Fluttershy said happily, picking up another bundle of hay and moving on to the next cow. Bush nodded vaguely and left, making a mental note to request that the crew refrain from eating meat until they were on the open sea again. He didn’t want to imagine the look on Fluttershy’s face when she realized one of her new friends was missing.  
***

Pinkie hadn’t been joking when she said her cider had a kick. When Bush woke up the next morning, he felt like he’d been kicked in the head, neck, and stomach. He had no idea what she’d put in that barrel, but it should probably be banned.

When he finally managed to make it up on deck, he learned that the rest of the crew was in a similar state. The few men who’d managed to make it up on deck were hiding in the shadowy corners, trying to move or speak as little as possible. A few of the ponies were on deck too, though they seemed unaffected by the cider, and were doing their best to leave the crew to their misery. Bush appreciated that, if nothing else.

Then three high-pitched squeals of excitement ripped through the air, causing every man on deck to wince as one. Composing himself as best he could, Bush made his way to the railing and looked down. Celestia’s chariot was sitting on the beach, and three tiny ponies were dancing around it, while a familiar orange pony dismounted, shaking her head affectionately. Then she glanced upwards and spotted Bush. “Howdy, Lieutenant!” Applejack called up, waving a hoof, “Nice morning, isn’t it!”

Bush lifted a hand in greeting, but otherwise didn’t comment. Applejack said something to the small ponies, then made her way up on deck. She paused when she got a good look at Bush, then shook her head. “Pinkie made her ‘Cider Special’, didn’t she?”

“You’ve had it?”

“Once. And once was enough. Though it looks like it gets to you humans more than it does to us. Don’t worry, the worst should pass by afternoon.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Bush said, hoping that Hornblower wouldn’t come out to see his crew in this state; his disappointment and chastising would be almost bottomless.

“Listen, Lieutenant,” Applejack said, fiddling with her hat and looking chagrined, “You probably noticed I didn’t come alone.”

“It was hard to miss.” Bush agreed, massaging his temples.

“Well, see, my sister wanted to hear all about my adventures on the ship while we were dealing with the blight. Then she ran off and told her friends—they’ve got a sort of club, y’see—and they all wanted to see your ship for themselves. Apple Bloom was badgering me morning till night, saying that visiting their ship could help them get extra credit when they got back to school, and I didn’t have it in me to say no. So I brought them over to have a tour. Would that…would that be ok with you? I can have them sent right back home if it’s not.”

Bush looked over the side at the three ponies, who were now sitting quietly, looking up at the _Lydia_ with wide eyes. “Is it all right with their parents?”

“Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both said they got permission. Besides, they’ve got me, Rarity, and Rainbow to look after them while they’re here.”

Bush hesitated for another second. Then he made up his mind. He’d deal with the consequences if need be, but who was he to stand in the way of a possible once in a lifetime opportunity?

“I’ll have to ask Captain Hornblower,” he said, “But I see no reason why they couldn’t look around, as long as someone’s there to keep an eye on them. Why don’t you take them to the inn and get them settled? I’ll have someone come round with the captain’s answer in a few hours.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Applejack said gratefully, “It’ll mean so much to them.”

As she went back down the gangplank, Bush made his way back down to his cabin. Hopefully two hours would be enough time for him to recover from the worst effects of the cider…and to figure out exactly how to phrase the request to Hornblower.


	10. (Special) Talent For Trouble

“Children.” Hornblower said flatly.

“Yes, sir. I think they’re siblings of some of the ponies Princess Celestia sent over. Applejack assured me that she’d make sure they didn’t get into any trouble while they were on board.”

Hornblower pinched the bridge of his nose. Just when he thought he might get a little peace around here… And yet, the ship was technically out of service, which eliminated his primary excuse to keep them from coming aboard. Not to mention the nagging doubt in his head that told him that Twilight was sending reports to the Princess, keeping her informed of the _Lydia’s_ actions. Even if there was a good reason for it, turning away children might be enough to provoke the monarch. It seemed that his hands were tied.

Lowering his hand, he looked back at Bush, hoping he made his disapproval quite clear. “They may come aboard, Mr. Bush. But I expect Applejack to keep her word that they’ll be supervised at all times.”

“She strikes me as someone who keeps her promises,” Bush said, “I’ll send one of the powder monkeys over to the inn to let them know. Applejack will probably pay you a visit to determine the best time to give them a tour.”

Hornblower made a vague noise and dismissed him, waiting until the door was closed before standing up and pacing the room. What on earth had he done to deserve this? He followed orders to the best of his ability, he treated his friends and family with respect, and he did his utmost to be moral. Perhaps it was never enough, but to be stranded in this situation seemed like an egregious punishment for a relatively minor crime.

The one consolation was that it would all be over soon. In two weeks, they would be out on the open sea again, able to leave all this behind them. Even though the crew seemed to be enjoying themselves here, Hornblower had no doubt they would keep their silence when they got back to England. After a few months, he was sure he’d never hear any mention of Equestria or its inhabitants again. He’d just have to cling to that thought to get him through these last few days.

Sighing, Hornblower retreated to his seachest, where he rooted around for his copy of _The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire._ As long as his ship was on leave, he had the right to spend that time however he liked.  
***

Most of the day passed without incident. He heard giggling through his door that suggested that the young ponies were having their tour, and the occasional snatch of song or click of hooves on wood, but mostly, the decks were silent. It was comforting, in a way, and allowed Hornblower to relax, at least a little.

It was only in the evening when things were shot to hell. Hornblower was back at his desk, filling out the daily report, when he heard a rap at his door. “Come in.”

Bush entered his cabin once again, and Hornblower’s back stiffened at once when he caught sight of the expression on his first lieutenant’s face. It was a combination of puzzled and concerned, and it suggested that something out of the ordinary had occurred. “What is it, Mr. Bush?”

“Well, sir, a group of the men decided that they needed a bath after all the repairs they’ve done, so they waited until the ponies had dispersed for the night before going into the ocean for a swim. As they were splashing around, they noticed something…odd.”

“Yes?” Hornblower’s tone was sharp enough to cut glass.

Bush’s cheeks reddened slightly. “They…they seem to have sprouted cutie marks.”

“What?” Hornblower was torn between disbelief and horror.

“On their hips, one on each side, just like the ponies,” Bush confirmed, “And as far as we can tell, they serve the same purpose; to reveal each man’s unique talent. Simmonds has a bayonet, Owen has a knife carving a block of wood, Hall has a set of ratlines, and Dawson’s looks oddly like a paintbrush. Since Hall’s one of the best climbers we have, it seems to line up with what we know about cutie marks.”

“And you’re positive this isn’t the men playing some sort of prank?”

Bush nodded. “Dawson looked astounded when he reported it to me, and it seemed genuine. Plus, they wouldn’t have had the time to draw on marks that detailed, and the seawater would have washed it away besides. Not to mention…” Bush turned redder, “That after they told me, I went into my cabin and had a look in the mirror. I’ve got them too.”

Hornblower gaped at him. Bush rubbed nervously at his hip. “It’s a sealed envelope, unquestionably made to look like a set of orders. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a set yourself.”

“Has any of the crew felt anything unusual? A pain in their hips, a desire to eat hay, a feeling of shrinking?”

“Not to my knowledge. And Hankey hasn’t reported any visits to the surgery. Do you think we’re…”

“There’s only one way to find out. Send a man to the inn and fetch Twilight Sparkle. Tell her she needs to come here immediately. Send her to my cabin as soon as she arrives.”

“Aye, sir!” Bush saluted and disappeared out the door. Hornblower took a deep breath, hoping to calm his heartrate. Logically, it seemed ridiculous that exposure to the ponies would cause humans to turn into ponies themselves. Even the worst diseases never caused symptoms _that_ dramatic. And he’d been told that other ships had spent time here, and apparently had suffered no ill effects. But then, they had only spent a few days there, whereas the _Lydia_ had been here for over a week. Most likely, the men hadn’t eaten or drank most of the food here, which might be part of the transformation process. It’s what allowed Circe to turn Odysseus’ men into pigs, after all.

Hornblower shook his head. Now he really _was_ being ridiculous. What he was predicting came straight out of myths and fairy tales, and even if he was surrounded by talking horses that could fly and do magic, he refused to believe that the world had gone completely mad. If there _was_ something at work here, it probably had some basis in the location of the island, not on the inhabitants. While there was a slim possibility that Princess Celestia had been lying to him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. Everyone in Equestria seemed too open and friendly to be practicing deceit on such a massive scale. Still, he needed to weigh every option, and that’s why he needed to speak to Twilight.

He didn’t have long to wait. Someone pounded on the lower half of the door, and he opened it to reveal Twilight and a dazed looking crewman Benskin. “I teleported over as soon as I got your message!” she said, looking up at Hornblower in concern, “What’s happened?”

Hornblower ushered her inside and closed the door firmly. “I’ve just heard from Lieutenant Bush that my men are developing marks that seem to be similar to your cutie marks. Do you have _any_ idea what could be causing this?”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “No. I’ve never heard of this before. It’s really sort of fascinating, actually. There are so many variables that could lead to this happening…”

“Miss Sparkle!” Hornblower interrupted firmly, “This is causing a certain amount of consternation among my crew. If there is any possibility that this is just the start of other unpleasant changes, I need to know about it, and possibly leave here before any more damage can be done. If you don’t know anything about this, perhaps Princess Celestia does. I would be very much obliged if you could send her a letter tonight, asking her if she’s ever heard of something like this.”

Twilight nodded. “Of course! I’ll have Spike draft the letter as soon as I get back to the inn. I’ll have him write ‘Urgent’ on the outside of the scroll. That way, we should get an answer by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

“Thank you, Miss Sparkle. Please, come round to tell me her response as soon as you receive it. It would be a weight off my crew’s shoulders.”

“Absolutely. I mean, aye-aye, sir!” Twilight said, before disappearing from the room in a puff of pink sparkles. Hornblower blinked for a moment, then sighed again. Well, at least it meant she was taking this seriously.

With Twilight looking into this, there was nothing more Hornblower could do except wait. Quickly finishing up his reports, he elected to prepare for bed. It would allow his thoughts to settle, and then perhaps he would be able to approach Celestia’s response with a clear head.

As his hands moved to remove his trousers, he glanced over at the mirror, then down at his still-covered hip. “No,” he said firmly, “What does it matter what my talent is? The needs of my crew come first.” Hastily changing into his nightshirt, he blew out the candle and climbed into his cot, resisting the urge to give the mirror a second glance.  
***

“Captain!”

Hornblower turned around at once the second he heard Twilight’s voice. She was running up the gangplank, levitating a sheet of paper above her head. “The Princess wrote back?” Hornblower said, hoping to keep his voice even.

“She did,” Twilight said, depositing the letter into his hand, “Here, look for yourself.”

Hornblower scanned the letter quickly, saw the relevant information, and had to touch the railing to steady himself as the tension uncoiled from his shoulders. Returning to the top of the letter, he gave it a proper read;

_Dear Twilight (and Captain Hornblower),_

_I certainly understand your concerns regarding the unexpected appearance of cutie marks amongst the crew of the **Lydia**. Rest assured that while the fear was groundless, the concern certainly was not._

_While most humans do not stay in Equestria long enough to develop cutie marks, there are records of a few humans who stayed long enough for them to appear. Other than the cutie marks, though, they showed no other change. While there is no definitive explanation for their appearance, the assumption seems to be that prolonged exposure to the magic that suffuses Equestria causes the cutie marks to appear, assuming one has lived long enough to find their special talent. I would assume that, once the **Lydia** has left Equestrian waters, the marks will fade and eventually disappear._

_I wish you the best of luck in installing the new cannons._

_Sincerely,  
Princess Celestia._

“Mr. Bush!” Hornblower called over his shoulder. When Bush appeared, Hornblower handed him the letter. “Pass the word amongst the men. There doesn’t seem to be anything to fear about the…latest development.”

“Aye, sir.” Bush said, the relief evident in his voice as he moved off. Hornblower turned his attention back to Twilight. “Thank you for your prompt action, Miss Sparkle. My crew will be able to pass the rest of their leave in peace now.”

Twilight smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. I know exactly how it feels to be too worried to focus.” She made her way back down the gangplank. “My friends and I will be back to help you install the new cannons! Until then, see you around town!”

“Unlikely.” Hornblower said quietly, but nodded and waved her off. Now that his fears had been put to rest, he felt embarrassed at having caused such a fuss. For all he knew, he’d been the only one worried about turning into a pony, and had caused undue stress among his crew. At least no harm had been done. Pushing the embarrassment to the back of his mind, Hornblower moved down the deck, wanting to take a tour of the ship to make sure everything was still in order.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. Hornblower took dinner with his lieutenants and managed to talk three of them into a game of whist. As much as he hated to admit it, having a short respite from the various battles was very much appreciated. It was good for morale, if nothing else.

As night fell, Hornblower dismissed the lieutenants and nodded his thanks to Polwheal as he lay out Hornblower’s nightclothes. Once he was alone in the cabin, he glanced at the mirror again. He knew he should just ignore it—no one would see it, after all, and with luck, it would cease to matter in a few weeks—but the vague curiosity was nagging at him, and he knew that there was only one way it could be satisfied. Cursing his weak resolve, he went up to the mirror and pulled down his trousers inch by inch until his entire hip had been exposed.

It wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he’d been expecting. He’d had the vague concern that Pinkie had been right that his cutie mark was a horn of some sort, suiting his name but not his character. Instead, it was a pair of silver dividers, spread wide enough for the points to touch either side of his hip, and a mix of numbers and symbols placed between them, representing a mathematical formula of some sort. It made sense; he’d always had a head for numbers. It was a fairly subtle mark, all things considered, and in other circumstances, he might even have been proud of it. As it was, at least he was unlikely to turn red if, for some reason, his men caught a glimpse of it.

Curiosity satisfied, Hornblower turned away from the mirror and finished dressing for bed. The knowledge that all was well and that he wouldn’t need to speak to any of the ponies for a few days was enough to ensure a sound sleep tonight.


	11. It's Over...Or Is It?

“Here they come!” Midshipman Clay called out from the topmast, “Five carts, each bearing a cannon!”

“Very good, Mr. Clay!” Bush answered, before turning his attention to the men gathered on the deck. “Now, the ponies may be doing the heavy lifting, but that doesn’t give you permission to be slack! Be quick and efficient at guiding each cannon to its proper place, and don’t make the poor ponies strain themselves unnecessarily. Am I clear?”

“Aye, sir!” the men responded as one. Bush nodded. “Then take your positions and be ready to move as soon as the cannons have arrived.”

As the men moved to their places, Bush looked over the side of the ship. Hornblower was standing on shore with Miss Sparkle and her dragon assistant, ready to receive and sign for the shipment. Miss Sparkle’s friends were there, too, mostly to watch the unloading. For now, they were chatting amongst themselves, while Applejack looked after the young fillies, whose excited chattering could be heard from the deck. Rarity, meanwhile, was fiddling with a large bundle, no doubt the completed sails. It would be good to have sails on the _Lydia_ again; then it would really feel like it was ready for action again.

The carts bearing the cannons appeared over the hill, and the men gave a cheer. It was matched by excited squeals from four of the ponies down below, which caused Bush to smile. He admired the ponies enthusiasm and sense of adventure, something that sometimes got lost in the midst of war. It was nice to get a reminder of that, sometimes. He had a feeling the men felt the same way. Once they returned to the open sea, he suspected they would remain in a jaunty mood for a good few weeks, no matter what storms or enemy ships they encountered.

Now Hornblower was talking to the pony pulling the lead cart, and Miss Sparkle was dictating a letter to Spike. Bush lifted his hand, waiting for just the right moment. The second Hornblower stepped away and the unicorns started to maneuver their way out of their harnesses, Bush gestured to the men. “Ready the block and tackle!” he roared, “Let’s see if we can get these cannons in place before the sun is directly overhead!”  
***

In the end, it took them just under three hours to get the cannons situated. The ponies knew their role as well as the _Lydia’s_ men, and worked efficiently, maintaining a steady pace so as not to jolt the cannons. Pinkie came on deck and conducted (literally; she’d produced a baton) everyone in the Sea Horse Shanty so they could keep an even pace, and it seemed to work. Bush even joined in a little himself as they maneuvered the cannons down the stairs. While there was the occasional grumble about back pains and heavy weights, it seemed more good-natured than anything, and there was far more laughter from man and pony alike to balance it out. Bush couldn’t see how the operation could have gone any smoother.

“Well done, all of you,” Hornblower said, once the last cannon was in place and everyone had refreshed themselves and returned to the deck, “I am pleased at how quickly you worked. I am also immensely pleased at how well you were able to work together, despite certain…differences. And of course, I am very grateful to the help all of you ponies have provided us during this time. I’m not sure how to thank you.”

“Ooh, ooh, I know!” Pinkie piped up from the back of the crowd, and Hornblower made the slightest of grimaces, “We can have a party! A ‘Yay, the ship’s been completed’ party! Have your cook make some specialty dishes from England, and we’ll make some from Equestria, and we’ll all mingle!”

There seemed to be a general murmur of approval at this, which Hornblower silenced with a particularly loud throat clear. “I would rather we wait on that until after I’ve put the _Lydia_ through her paces. We need to run a set of drills to make sure the cannons are in working order.”

“And what will that entail?” Miss Sparkle asked.

“Setting up a target and firing at it, to make sure the guns all go off at the appropriate times, primarily. It’s a test of the men’s abilities as well as that of the guns. Rest assured, we will move a few miles out to sea to make sure we don’t hit the island.”

Miss Sparkle nodded, looking pensive. “You’re welcome to watch, if you wish,” Hornblower said, clearly having noticed her expression, “I understand the desire to learn more about human customs.”

“Maybe…” Miss Sparkle said vaguely. Hornblower glanced upward, smiled faintly, and changed the subject. “Now, there’s one last item that needs to be put in place. While most of the men were occupied with the cannons, Miss Rarity commandeered a few of the powder monkeys to help install the new sails she sewed for us. I promised her she would be allowed a grand revealing. Are you ready, Miss Rarity?”

“All I needed was your signal, Captain!” came Rarity’s voice from the crow’s nest. “All right, gentlemen, untie them, if you would!”

As one, the new sails slid down the masts, unfurling in a soft billow before coming to rest. Bush only caught the vaguest glimpse of this, though, because he had to throw his hand up over his eyes to protect them from the blinding flash that came as the sails caught the light. Squinting up at them, he realized the sails were covered in gemstones, brilliants or diamonds by the looks of it. It was brilliantly done, all things considered, with just enough spacing between the gems to give them room to shine, while giving an overall effect that the sail was made entirely out of diamond. But while it might have been magnificent as a dress, it wouldn’t do at all for the _Lydia_.

Glancing around the deck, Bush could see that Hornblower felt the same way. His shoulders were pinned so far back that he must have been clenching his fists well below his waist in order to maintain composure, and the narrowness of his eyes had nothing to do with the glint from the sails. “What…exactly is this, Miss Rarity?” he called up.

“Well, the scraps of sail you gave me to repair were _frightfully_ tattered and drab, and I thought you needed something a little more durable. So I tracked down enough diamonds to cover the cloth—no mean feat, may I add—and sewed them in place. I’m quite impressed with the results. You’ll never need to get the sails repaired again, and now they’re both tough _and_ chic!”

“Could you…could you come down here for a minute, Miss Rarity?” Hornblower said, a heavy note of strain in his voice.

“Of course!” she answered cheerfully, waving over a pegasus to fly her down. As she did so, Hornblower turned to the men, who had been peering up at the sails with a mixture of amazement and bewilderment. “You are dismissed, gentlemen. Return to your duties, and make sure to secure your cabins for the drills tomorrow.”

The men dispersed and the ponies headed for the gangplank, but Bush lingered, suspecting Hornblower would appreciate some assistance, even if it came in the form of silent support. Rarity’s hooves gracefully touched the deck, and she smiled her thanks at the pegasus before approaching Hornblower. “What is it, Captain? Do the sails not meet your specifications?”

“To be blunt, Miss Rarity, they do not. It was a very thoughtful gesture on your part, and I cannot fathom how you found so many diamonds for the purpose. But it is completely inappropriate for a ship of war. For us to have diamonds in our sails while everyone else has simple cloth will be seen as extravagant at best. And the light from them risks blinding my men, not to mention alerting the enemy to our position from a fair distance away. I do apologize for all the time and effort you spent creating these, but I must ask that you remove them. I believe we have some spare cloth that will serve for now.”

“They’re in need of a patching, but they should get us through till we next encounter a supply ship,” Bush chimed in, “They might even get us to England as long as we don’t run into too many French ships.”

Rarity looked up at the sails, squinting at them critically. Then she sighed. “You’re quite right about the brightness. Perhaps I overdid it on the sheen. My apologies, Captain Hornblower. Sometimes I get an idea, and it can carry me away. I’ll have these taken down at once.”

“Thank you,” Hornblower inclined his head to her and turned to Bush. “Mr. Bush, can you round up a few of the men to help replace the sails? I’d like the ship to be mostly cleared for action by nightfall, so we can waste no time in getting started on the drills.”

“Aye, sir.” Bush said with a salute. Hornblower retreated to his cabin, no doubt to write up reports. Rarity was still looking up at the sails, murmuring to herself. “Well, I certainly don’t want them to go to waste. Maybe I can make something of them back in my boutique. But it’s going to be hard to cut around the stones…”

As Bush walked past her, she snapped out of her reverie. “May I offer what assistance I can, Mr. Bush? It seems only appropriate that I help undo the mess I seem to have made.”

Bush gave her a sympathetic smile. “We’d be delighted, Miss Rarity.”  
***

As the sun sank over the horizon, Bush took one last look over the ship, nodding his approval. Despite their week of idleness, the men hadn’t allowed their abilities to slacken. The ship was fully cleared for action, and though the sails hadn’t been fully patched, they would serve for the purposes of the drills. The ship was fighting fit once more, and Bush had no doubt that the men would be as well. Perhaps a successful drill would be enough to lighten Hornblower’s mood. He was doing his best to hide his irritation, but it was bleeding through the longer he stayed here. Well, he only needed to hold out for another day or two.

After giving his report to the captain, Bush retired to his quarters, wanting to get a good sleep; he’d need his voice in top condition in order to be heard over the cannons. He changed into his nightshirt, chuckling slightly when he caught sight of his cutie mark, and blew out the candle, slipping off to sleep quickly and easily.

Perhaps the satisfaction of having the repairs complete had allowed him to have a peaceful night, because he awoke a good two hours before he was due to come up on deck. Bush shrugged and got out of his hammock, figuring he might as well start the day and make absolutely sure everything was ready for the drills.

He dressed perfunctorily, waiting until he had closed the cabin door behind him before fiddling with his cuffs and neckerchief, figuring there wouldn’t be many people around to see him in a state of semi-dishevelledness. It was only when he glanced up that he realized that someone _was_ watching him, and it wasn’t any of the men.

A large, dark blue pony, bearing the wings and horn of royalty, was standing on the deck, gazing at him surprisingly placidly, given the circumstances. Her blue mane glittered in a way that reminded Bush of the night sky, which might have put him at his ease were it not for the fact that he was standing in the presence of yet another princess. It seemed likely that this was the sister Celestia had spoken of during their luncheon. He lowered his hands at once and straightened up. He tried to come up with an appropriate form of greeting, but they all seemed to have vanished out of his head. “May I help you?” he finally said.

“Are you the captain of this fine vessel?” she said, her voice regal and clipped, but not dismissive.

“I’m afraid not, your majesty,” Bush said, “Would you like me to fetch him for you?”

“Please do. I would very much like to speak with him.”

Bush nodded and moved past her, towards Hornblower’s cabin. Lord only knew what the captain would make of this…


	12. The Final Straws

Hornblower listened in consternation as Princess Luna (as she’d introduced herself) explained herself. “I had heard that your ship had officially completed repairs last night, and were preparing to test things out. Forgive my intrusion, but I’ve just finished drilling the Royal Militia, and battle tactics are still uppermost in my mind. I was hoping you would allow me to accompany you during your own drills so that I can see how the humans do things and perhaps get some new ideas for my own training regimen. I’ll make sure to stay out of your way, of course, but I would very much like to have my curiosity satisfied.”

_Of course you would_ , Hornblower thought bitterly, _Twilight sent Princess Celestia a letter telling her about the drills, and she sent you to make sure we didn’t turn the guns on Equestria. For all I know, they have a special device in them that renders them inoperable unless a unicorn is present. Refusing would just make it that much harder to finally get out of here_.

He looked Princess Luna straight in the face, looking for something that would confirm his suspicions. She blinked at him placidly, though he could certainly see royal imperiousness lurking in there. Willing himself not to sigh, he nodded his head. “You are certainly welcome to oversee the proceedings. I’m afraid it can get somewhat cramped below decks, though, especially when men are racing around to get the cannons loaded. There are a few out-of-the-way corners where you can watch, but it might not be very comfortable.”

“Thank you very much, Captain,” Princess Luna said, bowing her head gracefully, “I will manage. Now, shall we get these drills underway?”

Hornblower bristled, but she was right; the watch had just rung eight bells, and it was high time they began. Nodding, he turned to Lieutenant Bush. “Order the gangplank to be raised, Mr. Bush. It’s time to steer the _Lydia_ out of the bay.”  
***

“Time?”

“Three minutes, fifty-five seconds, sir!” Midshipman Savage called out, loudly enough for the men in the ratlines to hear.

“Passable, but it could be better.” Bush declared. Then he glanced at Hornblower. Hornblower shook his head slightly, and Bush called up to the men “We’ll be running drills later this afternoon to see if we can cut it down further! For now, however, make your way down below. It’s time to test out the cannons. North, Benskin, Sullivan, prepare the targets.”

“Aye, sir!” came the call, and the men scrambled down the ratlines, while the men on deck hurried down below. Hornblower and Bush remained on deck, waiting for the worst of the crush to disperse. Then there came the soft clopping of hooves, and Hornblower steeled himself. “Your men perform admirably, Captain,” Princess Luna said, “Despite your claims of a lack of practice. You must command them well when you are out on the open ocean.”

Surprised by the compliment, Hornblower merely gave a curt nod. “I appreciate your praise, Your Majesty. Nevertheless, they will require more practice to make sure they are at their best. You never know when you may encounter a French vessel.”

“Of course,” the princess agreed, “That is why I spent the past week drilling our royal guards. They need to be prepared for anything.”

Hornblower nodded again. “The men are no doubt waiting on us. We should head below. After you, Your Majesty.”

Princess Luna inclined her head and vanished down the stairs. By the time Hornblower and Bush joined her, she had found a spot near the stairs where she could observe without getting in the way. Her dark coat allowed her to blend in with the shadows, and Hornblower found it was easy to pretend she wasn’t there at all. “Is the target in range?”

“Aye, sir!” Rayner answered, “Visible on the starboard side!”

“Very good. Let’s see how the timing is on the undamaged side before we get a feel for the new cannons.” Hornblower pulled out his watch. “We’ll start by firing each gun individually. You have the deck, Mr. Bush.”

Bush immediately stepped forward, crouching down to see out of the holes. “The drill begins _now_.” Hornblower said, beginning the timer.

“Load the guns!” Bush barked, and the men set to work, adding powder and wadding, shoving each item in with practiced ease. Even with two weeks of idleness, they were doing quite well. Hornblower glanced down at his watch. Two minutes to load; passable.

“Roll ‘em out!” Bush said, and with a groaning of wheels, the guns lurched forward. “We’re right alongside the target. Fire your gun the moment after the man beside you has. Ready… _fire!_ ”

Any other orders Bush may have given were subsequently drowned out by the roar of the guns. Despite himself, Hornblower’s heart gave a little leap at the sound. While he certainly had no desire to engage in battle, the crack of gunfire was a return to normalcy, something familiar and almost comforting, implications aside.

As the last gun’s retort echoed over the water, Hornblower glanced down at his watch. “Time!” he called out, “Five minutes even. It could be worse, I suppose. And our accuracy?”

“Three direct hits, two grazings, one near-miss, three total misses.”

“A decent showing. Now let’s see how your accuracy is when firing a broadside.”

“If I may, Captain…” Princess Luna’s voice came from the corner, causing him to jump. He turned to face her. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I find myself rather…caught up in all of this. Would you mind terribly if I gave the order to fire? Mr. Bush may give all the other orders, but I’d like to try my hoof at it.”

Hornblower hesitated, then nodded, gesturing her to move forward. As requests went, it was fairly minor, and if she had experience in training her guards, then she would have some form of experience with this. Besides, it wouldn’t do to fall from her good graces at this stage in the drills. The princess beamed at him and stood besides Bush, who nodded respectfully at her. Hornblower held his watch at the ready. “Begin… _now!_ ”

Things were carried out much as they were before, though Hornblower was gratified that they cut their loading time down by twenty seconds. Bush and the princess peered through the holes as the cannons were rolled out once more. Then Bush stepped aside and gestured for the princess to give the order. She looked at the target once more, then drew herself up and took a deep breath.

“ ** _FIRE_**!!!!!!!!”

Hornblower dropped his watch and clapped his hands over his ears. The princess’ voice reverberated around the small space, seeming to echo even as she said the word. It was so loud that it completely drowned out the sound of the cannons going off, the men having managed to light the cannons before being overwhelmed by the sound. The men were now on the ground or leaning against the cannons, rubbing at their ears and looking around in bewilderment. Bush was looking at Princess Luna in awe. For her part, the princess had gotten into the spirit of things, pointing a hoof dramatically as she had given the order, eyes closed and ears back against the onset of sound. Perhaps that’s why she looked so surprised when she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. “Has something gone wrong?”

“N-no…” Hornblower said, scrambling for his watch. “Time!”

“Your voice is quite…impressive, Princess.” Bush said by way of explanation.

“Why, thank you,” she said, looking proud, “It seemed only appropriate to deploy the Royal Canterlot Voice for this occasion. I thought perhaps it would spur the men to do their best.”

Hornblower cleared his throat. “Four minutes, twenty seconds. A decent improvement. And the shots?”

“Quite a few hits, sir,” Bush reported, “Perhaps two or three misses, with the rest having hit in some form.”

Hornblower nodded, the ringing finally fading from his ears. “It will serve. Let’s see if Mr. Gear’s cannons can do the job. To the port side, gentlemen.”

The princess returned to her observation space, and Hornblower prepared the watch. “Begin!”

The men were falling back into the proper rhythms now, loading and rolling out the cannons in smooth motions, immeasurably improving their former times. Hornblower felt his shoulders relax by a fraction; perhaps it wouldn’t be as difficult as he thought to return the men to fighting form once they’d finally left Equestria behind them.

“ _Fire_!” Bush roared, his voice at a much more appropriate volume. The guns went off one by one, each one booming satisfactorily, none looking out of place. It seemed that pony craftsmanship was just as good as humans. Hornblower would have to send his complime…

Then a cannon in the middle of the pack let out a strange buzzing noise, and along with the cannonball, disgorged a large amount of bright scraps of paper, some of which remained inside the room and floated cheerfully to the ground. Hornblower’s mouth fell open, but by the time the paper had touched the floor, he had a hand over his eyes. He didn’t even need to ask who was responsible for this.

“Sir?” Bush asked tentatively.

“Would anyone happen to know if Miss Pinkie Pie made any mention of cannons any of the times that she was on board?” Hornblower asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“Yes, sir,” Marsh’s voice floated out from the other side of the room, “She commented to me that she quite liked the look of our cannons, and was going to ask Mr. Gear to make her something just like it. Apparently she has something called a ‘party cannon’ that she uses for decorating. No doubt her order accidentally got mixed in with ours.”

“Of course it did,” Hornblower muttered to himself, “It can never be that simple, can it? No matter what happens, she always pops up to make my life still _more_ difficult.”

Bush’s voice cut through his frustration. “Your orders, sir?”

Still in the grip of irritation, Hornblower spoke without really thinking. “Go eat a boat!”

“Sir?” Bush sounded puzzled.

Hornblower opened his eyes, realizing his mistake, and scrambled to compose himself. “Go…fetch…the boats, and…lower them…to…bring in the targets. There’s no point in continuing the drills if we have a defective cannon. We will return to the bay and see if we can’t get our actual cannon back from Miss Pie.”

“Aye, sir,” Bush saluted, before turning to the men, “You heard the captain! Dismissed! Prepare to bring in the targets and return to port!”

“A fair showing, Captain, despite the setback,” Princess Luna piped up from behind him, “I’m sure my sister will be delighted to hear it as well.”

“I’m sure,” Hornblower repeated, “But if you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty, I need to see to things above decks.”

And he pushed his way into the throng of men, needing a few minutes to pace and clear his head.  
***

When the _Lydia_ returned to port, the princess vanished in a puff of magic after giving them her compliments once more, and there was a small group of ponies on shore, eager to look over the ship; apparently the sound of gunfire had reached them. Mercifully, Pinkie Pie was not among them, though the three children were, hopping around the ankles of the men and asking all sorts of questions. Hornblower sent men out to locate Mr. Gear and Pinkie Pie, hoping they would be able to make the exchange without too much hassle. That done, he leaned against the starboard side of the ship, looking out to sea. Once they got the cannon mess sorted out, he could send his thanks to Princess Celestia, and then perhaps they would finally be allowed to leave.

“Sir?” Bush said from behind him, “May I join you?”

“Go ahead, Mr. Bush.”

Bush rested his arms on the railing. “Despite the setbacks, were you pleased with the drills, Captain?”

Hornblower considered for a moment. “Yes, on the whole. They did an excellent job, considering their unexpected leave and a few unplanned hurdles. They even had the self-composure to put out the fuses before being overwhelmed by the Royal Voice.”

“Ah, yes,” Bush chuckled, “Quite impressive, actually. If we weren’t leaving in a few days, I might have asked her to give me lessons. It certainly seems like a useful skill to have.”

Hornblower smiled faintly. “It might be, at that. But I’m afraid the strain on my voice would be…”

_BOOOOOM!!!_

The deck trembled under their feet, and a plume of grey smoke billowed out from the lower deck. Aghast, Hornblower headed downstairs at a sprint, Bush on his heels. What had happened? Had the paper from the “party cannon” ignited somehow? Or had there been an accident in the kitchens?

He got his answer as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs. One of the starboard cannons had been violently shoved backwards, an ugly tear in the muzzle. The entire area was covered in gunpowder, including Mr. Marsh and the three fillies, who at least had the decency to look chagrined. “I guess we put in too much powder.” the unicorn said, trying to smile at him.

“What. Happened.” Hornblower said flatly, his hands curling into fists.

“The girls wanted to know how the cannons worked for their school report,” Marsh explained faintly, still in shock, “And I told them. I let them look around while I swept up, and apparently, they got it into their heads to try it for themselves. The next thing I knew, I heard them shout ‘Cutie Mark Crusader gunners!’ and before I could stop them, they had touched a light to the cannon.”

“Sweetie Belle!” came a voice, and suddenly Rarity was standing by Hornblower’s side, looking around, utterly aghast. “What have you done? Just _look_ at your mane!”

Hornblower made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Rarity must have heard him, because she glanced up curiously. Whatever she saw made her eyes narrow, and she stalked over to the fillies, levitating one of them up onto her back. “You three are coming right along with me back to the inn, where you are going to get a nice long bath to scrub every bit of powder off you. And while we do that, you’re going to get a few lectures from me, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash.”

“Aw, but Rarity!” the filly on her back protested.

“No ‘buts,’ young lady!” Rarity scolded her, lifting up the other two, “You’re in such trouble! We _told_ you not to touch anything without permission, and you’d been good enough about it that we thought you could be trusted to be supervised by one of the captain’s men instead of by one of us. Apparently we were sorely mistaken!”

She trotted to the stairs, pausing to look up at Hornblower again. “I’m _so_ sorry, Captain. I really thought they knew better. We’ll find a way to make it up to you, won’t we, girls?”

“Yes, m’aam.” the girls said meekly. Rarity clucked and carried them up the stairs, still chiding them. “You won’t be coming back to this ship again, except maybe to clean up your mess. Clearly you aren’t ready for this sort of responsibility. Honestly, I expected better of you…”

As her voice faded away, Hornblower felt the last threads of his composure snap. He had been doing everything he could to please the ponies and make them feel welcome. And all he was repaid with was stress. On top of which, with new damage to the cannons, they would have to spend yet _another_ day here.

“You have the ship, Mr. Bush.” he said faintly.

“Horatio?” Bush said softly, “Are you all right?”

“You have the ship.” Hornblower repeated, before turning and heading upstairs. He crossed the deck, entered his cabin, locked the door behind him, and proceeded to have a nervous breakdown.


	13. Talking To

Bush pressed his ear to the door of the captain’s cabin, wincing in sympathy. This had been going on for a solid hour, and Hornblower showed no signs of stopping. He had left his friend be initially, assuming he just needed a few minutes to compose himself, but it was clear that the past few weeks had taken more of a toll on Hornblower than he’d been letting on.

Through the door, he could hear Hornblower slam his fist into the desk. It was followed by a wail of “I’m so pathetic!!!” and Bush stepped away, his mind made up. It was the duty of a first officer to make sure things ran smoothly for his captain, particularly in trying times. Hornblower had most certainly fallen upon trying times, and it was up to Bush to smooth things over, even if it was in a roundabout way.

Happily, Miss Sparkle and her friends were gathered on the deck, talking amongst themselves. No doubt it was related to the incident the young fillies had caused. When they saw him, Applejack stepped forward, hat pressed to her chest. “Mr. Bush, is the captain available? I’d like to apologize on behalf of my sister and her friends.”

“He’s busy at the moment,” Bush said honestly, “But I wished to speak to you, for his sake.”

The six ponies looked up at him expectantly. Bush paused for a moment, choosing his words, and then began “Captain Hornblower is…an incredibly driven man. He hates being idle, and hates the thought of his ship falling into chaos. To him, a poorly run ship reflects badly on both the service, his crew, and himself. This latest incident has caused him a great deal of stress, especially since it will delay his returning to sea for at least another few days. I wanted to speak to you about ways to help mitigate that stress.”

“I know what would cheer him up!” Pinkie said, springing to her feet, “A pa…”

“No, Pinkie,” Bush interrupted firmly, “While that might raise the morale of the men, the captain isn’t particularly fond of parties.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened until they appeared to take up her whole head. “Doesn’t like…is he loco in the coco?!”

“I’m…not even going to try to parse that sentence,” Bush said, returning to the matter at hand, “What he would _really_ like is stability, calm, and a well-run ship. Is there any way you could assist me in giving him that?”

Miss Sparkle nodded. “You know, I think we could. Listen, here’s what we’ll do…”


	14. Helping Hooves

Hornblower ran a hand through his hair and tugged at his clothes, trying to appear presentable. It was bad enough that he’d left the ship in Bush’s hands with barely a word; the least he could do was resume his duties as if nothing odd had occurred.

Perhaps it would help if he formulated a plan of action, to keep himself busy and to ensure that the repairs were completed quickly. First, clean up the mess down below. Next, get the cannon repaired and the party cannon swapped out. Finally, write a letter to Princess Celestia, politely thanking her for her hospitality but offering an excuse as to why they couldn’t linger. If he did it right, they could be out of sight of Equestria in two days, and if he left the cannon repairs to Bush, he could keep his contact with the ponies at a minimum. Thus reassured, he stepped onto the deck, looking for Bush. The sooner he relayed his orders, the better.

Bush was nowhere to be seen, but thankfully, there were no ponies to be seen, either. Was he supervising the cleanup, perhaps…?

“Um…Captain Hornblower, sir?”

“What?” Hornblower snapped, whirling on his heel. The timid yellow pegasus—Fluttershy, was it?—squeaked and crouched down, her belly touching the deck as she looked up at him with frightened eyes. As much as the ponies had made his life hell, seeing her terrified expression caused something inside Hornblower to soften a little. She was one of the few ponies who hadn’t given him any trouble, perhaps because of her quiet nature, and she didn’t deserve to be the target of his wrath. Exhaling slowly, he crouched down so he could be at her eye level. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. You wanted to speak to me?”

“Y-yes.” She stood up again. “We’ve cleaned up the lower decks for you. I just wanted to see if you thought it was satisfactory.”

Hornblower blinked and consulted his watch. He’d been sequestered in his cabin for two hours, but even so, he wouldn’t have thought the mess could have been dealt with in that amount of time. Curious, he got to his feet and let Fluttershy lead the way downstairs. His eyes hadn’t even adjusted to the gloom before his mouth dropped open.

The room was almost pristine. The cannons gleamed, the wood was polished, and there wasn’t a trace of gunpowder anywhere. “How…how did you…” he sputtered.

Fluttershy blushed a little. “I asked some of the local animals if they could help out. They’re very good at getting into the cracks ponies can’t reach. With them, your men, and my friends’ help, we got the job done pretty quickly. Is it ok?”

“I…yes.” Hornblower was still gazing around the room in shock. “Thank them for me.”

“I will!” Fluttershy said, sounding more cheerful, “They’ll be so happy to have helped!”

A flicker of light caught Hornblower’s eye, and he turned his head. He tensed automatically, before his mind processed what he was seeing. Twilight’s dragon assistant was perched on a stool, blowing fire onto the damaged cannon, clearly in the act of soldering it shut. Mr. Gear was beside him, peering at the results and talking the small dragon through the process. And sitting at the base of the cannon was Twilight, casting some sort of bubble that was no doubt meant to prevent the fire from causing damage. She spotted Hornblower looking and raised a hoof, smiling a little. Hornblower waved back weakly, wondering if he was dreaming.

With nothing to be done down below, he returned to the deck, wanting to locate Bush in order to figure out what had happened in the two hours he’d been indisposed. He spotted his first officer near the mizzenmast, talking with Applejack, but before he could make his way over there, Rarity approached him, a bundle of fabric on her back. “Mr. Hornblower?”

“What is it?” he said, bracing himself.

She levitated a piece of fabric up to him. “I really do feel awful for the mix-up regarding the sails. So I thought about it, and I realized I had a bolt of fabric that might suit your needs much better. But I wanted you to approve it before I went ahead and started sewing. Will this meet your needs?”

Hornblower took the scrap and examined it. It was white, but not blindingly so, and even when he took the cloth in both hands and tugged as hard as he could, it stretched but didn’t rip. “It probably won’t hold up to repeated cannon fire, but it should stand up to storms.” Rarity said, “Will it work?”

“I believe it will,” Hornblower said, handing the fabric back to her, “Thank you for finding a replacement. It wasn’t necessary.”

“Wasn’t necessary? Captain, I _never_ wish a customer to be dissatisfied with my work! Professional obligation _demanded_ I make amends!” She shifted the fabric on her back and turned to go. “I’d better get started on this, then. Maybe I’ll ask the girls to help. They shouldn’t get into too much trouble if I supervise them, and it’s the least they can do after the mess they caused.”

As Hornblower stared after her, still trying to process everything, Bush approached him. “My apologies, Captain. Applejack was just showing me some knots she uses on the farm. She thinks they might help us secure the rigging a little better. Did you wish to speak to me?”

Dumbfounded, all Hornblower could think to say was “Is there any word on the changing of the cannons?”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Gear had what he thought was Pinkie’s party cannon shipped directly to her home in Ponyville. But she sent off a letter asking it to be brought back here as soon as possible. It may take a day to arrive, but Mr. Gear is convinced we can get them swapped out with little fuss.”

Hornblower put a hand to his head. What had seemed like a monumental delay ten minutes ago had now been reduced to merely waiting out one day. If he wrote that letter to Celestia tonight, they could be on their way by tomorrow afternoon. And all because of the ponies. “Mr. Bush, did you…”

“Captain!”

Hornblower and Bush looked up as one as Rainbow Dash swooped down to them, eyes wide. She’d clearly hurried over as fast as her wings could carry her, though she didn’t even seem to be panting as she said “I was just circling the bay, stretching my wings, when I spotted something out on the ocean. I flew out to take a closer look, and…it’s a ship like yours, except it’s way, _way_ bigger.”

Hornblower tensed. “Did you see the flag it was flying? Did it look like ours?”

Rainbow peered up at the Union Jack critically for a moment, then shook her head. “Same colors, but not the same pattern. It was three solid rectangles of red, white, and blue.”

“Did you see anything else? Any distinguishing marks?” Hornblower was aware his voice had grown harsh, but he didn’t have time for politeness.

Rainbow thought for a second. “The front of the ship had this weird carving on it. It looked like a human carrying a sword, except it had really long hair and these round things jutting out right below the neck.”

Hornblower curled his hand into a fist. “Is this a bad thing, Captain?” Rainbow asked, poised on the tips of her hooves.

He nodded. “That ship is the reason we’re here. It’s the _Féroce._ ”


	15. Battle Royale

“What do we do?” Rainbow Dash asked, her eyes flicking around the ship nervously even as her body tensed for action.

“It depends,” Bush said, “Did the ship see you?”

Rainbow shook her head. “I was too high up. So unless they were using those telescopes you’ve got, I doubt they spotted me.”

“Well, if they didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, maybe they’ll just pass by.”

“Unlikely, Mr. Bush,” Hornblower said, “If it’s not on our maps, it’s probably not on the French’s maps either. No doubt the _Féroce_ will be circling the island out of curiosity. And if they pull into the bay…we’ll have no choice but to engage, and possibly damage the city.”

“So what do we _do_?” Rainbow repeated, wriggling with irritation.

Hornblower’s eyes hardened. “Mr. Bush?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Beat to quarters.”

Internally, Bush had known that was the only option. But the fact that Hornblower had accepted that fact without a moment’s hesitation still came as a surprise. Trying not to show it, Bush saluted and hurried off. The sooner they got the ship cleared for action, the more likely it was that they could engage the _Féroce_ without risking damage to Equestrian soil.

The men snapped into action the moment Bush roared “Beat to Quarters! The _Féroce_ is approaching!” down the stairwell. As they rushed around stowing gear and readying the cannons, Bush returned to the deck to ask for further orders. He found Hornblower on the quarterdeck, Miss Sparkle and her friends (plus Spike the dragon) by his side. “You’d better get into town,” Bush said to them, “It’ll be safer there.”

“We’re not leaving!” Rainbow said, planting her hoof on the deck for emphasis.

“Equestria’s our home, and we’re the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. We’ve got a duty to face any threat to the country, no matter how out of the ordinary.” Miss Sparkle added.

“Captain Hornblower’s already given us permission to stay,” Applejack concluded, tipping her hat in a way that might have been a salute, “But he said you would know where best to put us. So how ‘bout it, Lieutenant?”

Bush looked at Hornblower in unconcealed amazement. Hornblower just gave the barest shrug of his shoulders, his eyes never leaving the activity on the deck. Knowing time was of the essence, Bush made some snap decisions.

“Miss Sparkle, stay here on deck. I’m sure you know a few attack spells. Applejack, Spike, go down below and help the men load and fire the cannons. Rainbow Dash, take to the air; you can keep an eye on the situation for us. Fluttershy, help the men in the rigging. Rarity, stay with the Marines and help them load their weapons. Pinkie Pie, just…go where you’re needed. Am I understood?”

“Aye-aye, sir!” the ponies said as one, before rushing off to take their positions. Hornblower nodded. “Is everything ready down below, Mr. Bush?”

“Not quite, sir. But they should be ready by the time we spot the _Féroce_.”

“It’ll have to do. Take us out, Mr. Bush.”

“Raise the gangplank!” Bush ordered. Six men started tugging at the ropes, before a purple aura surrounded the plank of wood and lifted it into the air, allowing it to land on the deck with a crash. “Sorry!” Miss Sparkle called up, “But I thought it would be quicker this way.”

“Time is of the essence,” Hornblower agreed, “Thank you for your quick thinking, Miss Sparkle. Now, helmsman, take us out of the bay, quickly and carefully as you can, if you please.”  
***

“I can see the ship!” Rainbow called down, “You guys should make contact in about five minutes!”

“Cannons ready?” Bush demanded.

“Aye, sir!” Rayner called up from the lower decks, “Just give the word.”

“Marines?”

“Primed and ready!” Simmonds answered from across the deck.

“Steady…” Hornblower murmured mostly to himself, his spyglass trained on the horizon, “Wait until we’re in range. We have surprise on our side, let’s not ruin it now.”

Bush pulled out his own glass and squinted out to sea. Initially, he saw nothing. But after a moment, he caught sight of a scrap of white. “She’s coming!” he said, and he could see all the men tensing, “Everyone remain where you are until the captain gives the word!”

Inch by inch, the _Féroce _came into view. The men were silent enough that Bush could hear faint shouts in French as the enemy ship spotted the _Lydia_. Bush set down his spyglass and put a hand on his sword, waiting. He could feel his heart pounding with the old mix of excitement and nerves. It was hard to believe he’d almost forgotten the anticipation of battle.__

__“Come about!” Hornblower shouted, causing Bush to flinch in surprise, “Come about and fire as you bear!”_ _

__It was the order the crew had been waiting for. Instantly, the men were rushing across the deck, tugging on ropes or getting their cannons ready. The _Lydia_ turned slowly, the men cheered, and then the first cannon went off, the shot arcing over the water and landing squarely in the middle of the _Féroce’s_ deck. A second shot followed, and then a third, each hitting their mark. On the _Lydia’s_ deck, Miss Sparkle put her hooves on the railing, lowered her head, and sent a beam of purple light at the _Féroce_. It didn’t do any damage that Bush could see, but she seemed satisfied, because she fired several more in quick succession. Assuming she knew what she was doing, Bush left her to it and turned back to the men. “Come about and fire the port cannons!”_ _

__“Any changes in the _Féroce_?” Hornblower called up to Rainbow._ _

__“Not that I can see!” she answered, swooping overhead and circling the masts for a moment, “They’re just running around loading cannons like you are!”_ _

__“Go below and tell Rayner to aim for the lower decks!” Hornblower barked, “We need to take out their cannons as fast as possible!”_ _

__Below decks, Rayner nodded at the order and urged the men to move faster. Then Spike approached Rayner and said something; Bush didn’t know what was said, but the next thing he knew, Rayner was holding Spike gingerly, peering intently through the cannon slots. As soon as the _Féroce’s_ hull came into view, he gave his orders. “Aim the guns and get out of the way!”_ _

__Before Bush could ask why the guns hadn’t been rolled out, he noticed that all the cannon ropes had been attached to a piece of wood that looked suspiciously like a harness. Seconds later, Applejack had galloped over, tossed the harness onto her back, and walked forward, her muscles straining with the effort. With a creaking groan, the cannons rolled forward as one. Bush felt his mouth drop open. Panting heavily, Applejack shucked off the harness and ran to the starboard side, no doubt assisting in reloading. Then a burst of flame caught Bush’s eye, and he glanced to port in time to see Spike send out a blast of fire that left a black mark on the opposite wall but, more importantly, set off all the port cannons simultaneously. Spike exhaled a cloud of soot, but seemed proud of himself. “Er…carry on!” Bush called, returning topside._ _

__The men were cheering when he emerged into the sunlight, and based on a quick glance at the _Féroce_ , the broadside had done a great deal of damage. Miss Sparkle seemed to have fully embraced things, because she was firing blasts from her horn with increasing frequency. Bush swore he heard her shout “Take that!” as he passed. As he reached the quarterdeck, Pinkie ran past, balancing a bag of gunpowder on her back and a cannonball on her head. Trying not to imagine how that must feel, Bush returned to Hornblower’s side. “Orders, sir?”_ _

__“Just keep hammering the enemy the way that last broadside did. That was masterful.”_ _

__Bush decided to let him in on what was going on belowdecks once the battle was over. “What news, Miss Dash?” he called up as he saw a blue streak fly overhead._ _

__“Nothing new. They’re just doing the same things, only now they’re a bit more quick about it.” Incredibly, Rainbow sounded bored. “You know what, if you guys are so eager to win this, stand aside. I’ll deal with this for you.”_ _

__Before Bush or Hornblower could respond, she zipped up into the air. Hornblower just shook his head and ordered the helmsman to hold course. Then, as another broadside roared out from the port guns, a blast of bright light overhead briefly reduced everything to silhouettes. Squinting upwards, Bush saw what could only be described as a horizontal rainbow spreading out and dissipating, while a second rainbow streaked with deadly purpose towards the _Féroce_ , which was in the process of turning. At the last moment, the _Féroce_ completed the turn, and the rainbow barely missed the rear of the ship and plunged into the water. “RAINBOW!” Miss Sparkle cried out, and overhead, Fluttershy left her post and flew rapidly towards the blue head bobbing dazedly in the water._ _

__“Give her cover, men!” Bush ordered, “Focus on the areas closest to Rainbow Dash!”_ _

__Miss Sparkle let out a burst of magic that fired beams in a wide arc, and the upper cannons followed her example. Fluttershy, meanwhile, seemed to be completely ignoring the spells and cannonballs flying around her, not even flinching when one passed directly over her head. It seemed her natural timidity lost out when one of her friends was in trouble. Reaching Rainbow, she pulled her friend out of the water and helped her flap high overhead, out of the range of the guns. “Is she all right?” Bush called._ _

__Fluttershy tried to answer, but her voice was too soft. Apparently recognizing this, she floated down to the quarterdeck, one of Rainbow’s arms draped across her back for support. “She’s ok, but a bit stunned. I don’t think she can help you anymore.”_ _

__“Take her to my cabin and let her rest there,” Hornblower said, pointing the way, “Are you comfortable with taking her place?”_ _

__“I…I think so.”_ _

__“Good. See if Miss Sparkle has a voice augmenting spell that can help you. That way, you can stay high up enough that you won’t have to risk endangering yourself.”_ _

__Fluttershy nodded and guided Rainbow (whose eyes appeared to be spinning in their sockets as she muttered about miscalculating) down the stairs. Hornblower pulled out his spyglass and peered at the _Féroce_. “They’re not going to back down,” he said, “They’re clearly worried, but I don’t think they’ll be willing to stop until both ships have been shot to pieces.”_ _

__Bush winced as a crashing sound indicated that one of the _Féroce’s_ shots had found its mark. “They’re not doing as well as they were last time, though,” he pointed out, “Maybe the glimpses of the ponies, Miss Sparkle’s magic, and the…attack rainbow has disoriented them somewhat. If we kept them off balance enough, it might be enough to turn the tide in our favor.”_ _

__Hornblower lowered his spyglass and looked at Bush intently for a second. “Mr. Bush,” he said slowly, “You’re a genius.”_ _

__“Sir?”_ _

__But Hornblower was fully absorbed in his idea now. “Helmsman, bring the ship close enough to board. You have the deck, Mr. Bush.”_ _

__With that, he left the quarterdeck. Perplexed, but more than willing to trust his captain, Bush looked over the deck again. The _Féroce_ had gotten a few good shots, with ugly holes in the deck and at least one set of ratlines in tatters, but the men were still in the fighting spirit, ignoring the damage or actively vaulting over it in order to complete their objectives. The Marines were still in place, cracking off their shots at regular intervals. Next to them, Rarity was levitating and loading ten rifles at once, so focused on her task that her ears didn’t even twitch as the guns went off next to her. Miss Sparkle had joined the Marines at this point, firing off her blasts during the loading periods in order to keep up the barrage. Rainbow was safely in the captain’s quarters, Fluttershy would be reemerging at any moment, and based on the regular broadsides, Applejack and Spike were still doing their part. So that left…_ _

__“Mr. Bush!” Hornblower was back on the deck, “Go below and tell Rayner to ready the…party cannon. Don’t load it with shot, just wheel it out.”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__“You heard me, Mr. Bush. Tell him to fire it as soon as we come up alongside the _Féroce._ ”_ _

__Not one to disobey orders, Bush retreated down below and relayed the message. Rayner seemed just as baffled, but instructed the men to tug the cannon into place, as it was the one cannon that hadn’t been attached to Applejack’s harness. Applejack seemed happy for the break; even in the dim light, her coat was visibly shining with sweat. Moving over to Spike, she bent down and let him hop up on her back, positioning him right next to the fuse. There was a minute’s pause as the French ship slid into view, now level with Bush’s eyeline, and then…_ _

__“ _Fire!_ ” Bush ordered, and Spike lit the fuse. Once again, brightly colored paper shot out, spraying the _Féroce_ and draping it in long paper streamers. At the same time, Bush heard a voice overhead shout “Wheee!” and in that moment, he knew _exactly_ what Hornblower had done._ _

__Returning to the quarterdeck, he gave the captain a sidelong glance. “And what exactly were your orders for Miss Pie once she hit the _Féroce’s_ deck?”_ _

__“Orders?” Hornblower said, and Bush swore that the captain’s smile was a vindictive one, “I sent her over as an envoy of peace. All she has to do is talk to everyone.”_ _

__The _Lydia_ had pulled away from the _Féroce_ to prevent boarders, but was still close enough that Bush could see a pink blur zipping from person to person. The _Féroce_ , which had been in the process of turning about once more, suddenly halted. Unable to shoot at the _Lydia_ from their current angle, the cannonfire ceased as well. The Marines lowered their weapons, and all the men watched the _Féroce_ intently. Bush wasn’t sure, but a lot of them seemed to be holding their breath._ _

__“Sir!” Crewman North called down from the crow’s nest, “I think…I think they’re lowering their colors!”_ _

__Bush squinted upwards. Yes, the French flag did appear to be sinking downwards. It disappeared entirely, and a moment later, North called down again, excitement and amazement in his voice. “It’s a white flag! They’re surrendering, Captain!”_ _

__The men erupted in cheers. Hornblower nodded his head and turned to Bush once more. “Start making assessments of the damages, Mr. Bush. I’ll be boarding the _Féroce_ to accept the captain’s surrender…and to reclaim our diplomat.”_ _


	16. Post-Battle Wind-Down

Hornblower stood on the quarterdeck of the _Féroce_ as crewman Sullivan steered the vessel into the bay, just behind the _Lydia_. The French prisoners had been taken below and firmly secured, the worst of the debris had been cleared away, and the mast was now flying British colors. Despite himself, Hornblower felt a surge of pride; the _Lydia_ had taken on a larger ship, one who had trounced them in the past, and managed to come out the victors. It was quite an achievement, even if that victory had been due to…some unexpected assistance.

As the ship reached the safety of the bay, Hornblower could see a crowd of ponies lining the beach. The cheering was audible even from this distance, and he could see several of the pegasi performing aerial acrobatics in celebration. Seeing the _Lydia_ must have reassured them that all was well. Perhaps the hullaballoo was unwarranted, but it was appreciated, nevertheless.

When the _Féroce_ pulled past the _Lydia_ in order to drop anchor, Hornblower looked out over the crowd, and tensed almost involuntarily when he caught sight of two larger ponies amongst the crowd. Moments later, Princesses Celestia and Luna rose into the air and glided towards the _Lydia_. There was a brief pause, and then Princess Celestia flew upwards once more and approached the _Féroce_. The second her hooves touched the deck, Hornblower’s hand flew upwards in a salute. “Princess Celestia. It’s an honor to see you here.”

“I should be the one saying that to you,” the princess said, climbing up to join Hornblower on the quarterdeck, “Luna and I teleported here as soon as we received Mayor Wedge’s note. However, you and your ship had already set out to confront the threat, and before we could lift a hoof to help, the lookout informed us that you had already won. You risked your ship and your lives to protect Equestria, despite being under no obligation to do so, and for that, I will be forever in your debt.”

“That’s not necessary, Your Majesty,” Hornblower said, “I was merely doing my duty. Besides, you have been more than gracious in allowing us to remain here and make repairs; the least I could do was to provide a little assistance in return.”

“Nevertheless, Equestria is grateful for your service, Captain Hornblower,” Princess Celestia said, “And if there is anything you require, merely ask and I will do my utmost to give it to you.”

“Right now, Your Majesty, all I desire is to make repairs to both ships, and then to be on my way. Your hospitality has been most gracious, but it is high time we were on our way to rejoin the battles at sea.”

“Very well. But I will put out the call to all skilled craftsmares across Equestria to assist you. That way, the repairs should be completed in a matter of days.”

“I’m obliged to you, Princess.”

“And we to you, Captain Hornblower,” the princess said with a warm smile as she took to the air once more, “My sister and I will return to Canterlot to draft the proclamation. I wish you good luck and fair winds on your travels.” With that, she flew back to the _Lydia_. Hornblower waited until he saw the puff of magic indicating that the princesses had teleported away until he called for a boat to take him back to his ship.

Bush, Twilight, and her friends were all waiting for him, Twilight levitating a sheet of paper in front of her. “Damage report, Mr. Bush.” Hornblower said, giving him a salute and nodding to the ponies.

“Miss Sparkle has compiled a list, sir.” Bush said, and Twilight handed it over. Hornblower scanned the contents; the damage was rather light, all things considered. The sides and deck would need to be patched, and a bit of topmast had broken off, but there had been no deaths, and the doctor reported mostly minor injuries. Surprisingly, all the cannons were intact this time. Once they replaced the party cannon, their gunline would be fighting fit.

“Very good, Mr. Bush,” he said, lowering the paper, “I presume Princess Celestia told you of her gracious offer to help?” When Bush nodded, Hornblower continued “As the crew did a commendable job in fighting off the _Féroce_ , I will not be setting them to work tonight. They’ve earned the right to relax and celebrate.”

A movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned his head enough to see Pinkie Pie vibrating, lips pressed tightly together and eyes wide. It looked like it was taking all her energy not to blurt something out. Glancing at Bush, he saw his first officer subtly incline his head at the pink horse. “Very well sir,” he said aloud, “Is there any particular way they should celebrate?”

Hornblower looked at Pinkie again. “I suppose…”

Pinkie’s tail was now a pink blur waggling behind her.

“…given everything they’ve just been through…”

Pinkie’s eyes seemed to take up the entirety of her head.

Hornblower sighed. “…That a party is in order.”

The result was immediate. Pinkie leapt into the air as if propelled by her party cannon, letting out a delighted squeal. When her hooves touched the ground again, she galloped up to Hornblower and squeezed him tightly, crushing the air out of his lungs. “Ohmigosh thank you thank you thank you!” she said, nuzzling his chest, “I promise it’ll be the best party I’ve ever thrown!”

“I’m sure…” Hornblower said faintly, trying to disentangle himself.

Mercifully, Bush came to his rescue. “Pinkie, the captain has to write his after-action report. Why don’t you go into town to set up the party?”

Pinkie let Hornblower go (Hornblower barely managing to catch himself before he hit the deck) and beamed at Bush. “You’re right! I have so much to do! Come on, girls, I’m gonna need your help for this!”

With that, she bounced away, the other ponies right behind her. Hornblower rubbed his chest and saw Bush smiling at him. “What?”

“Thank you, sir. I think she really needed that.”

“Yes, well…she’s a large part of what made the battle a success. It seemed the least I could do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do indeed have to record the battle in my logs.”

And he turned and made his way to his cabin, wondering if there was any way to phrase the events in such a way that he could leave any mention of the ponies out of it.  
***

Pinkie had pulled out all the stops this time. The room was decorated in blues and golds, with representations of the Union Jack all over the walls. Fireworks were continually going off outside, there was a live band, and the tables were covered with dishes that appealed to both human and pony palate alike. There was also a liberal amount of cider available, as supplied by Applejack, and every few minutes, someone raised their glass and made a toast. Pinkie had even made arrangements for several ponies to keep guard over the French prisoners so that all of Hornblower’s crew could enjoy the festivities, plus sending over some food and drink as “condolences.” How she’d managed all this in a few hours, Hornblower had no idea. But if there was one thing he’d learned over the past weeks, it was that he could never underestimate Pinkie Pie.

All things considered, it wasn’t a bad party. Yes, there was music, but the fireworks often drowned it out, and Pinkie cheerfully asked them to play a little quieter when Hornblower asked them to keep the volume down a bit. The food was good, and not saturated in sugar like Hornblower had been expecting. Everyone he encountered thanked him for fighting on Equestria’s behalf, but seemed to understand that they should be sparing with their praise, soon changing the topic to other matters. Two hours into the party, Hornblower caught himself laughing at an anecdote, and realized that he’d somehow managed to relax. The cider must have been more alcoholic than he’d suspected.

He was leaning against the wall, talking with Mr. Gear and idly watching some of the crewmen trying to teach ponies how to jig, when Bush sidled up to him. “Begging your pardon, Captain.”

“What is it, Mr. Bush?”

“Well, it’s just…it’s going on three in the morning, sir. Everyone would understand if you wanted the crew to turn in early so we could begin the repairs as soon as possible.”

Hornblower checked his watch, in disbelief that time could have passed so quickly. Putting it away, he looked out over the party, watching the men laughing and happily interacting with the ponies. They were enjoying themselves, and although there was alcohol involved, he suspected they wouldn’t get into any trouble.

So he looked back at Bush and shook his head slightly. “It’s probably in the best interests of the _Lydia_ if I return to the ship, but the men may remain for as long as they wish. I’ll still expect them to put in a good day’s work tomorrow, but they might as well take advantage of their time on land. After all, we’ll soon be at sea for God knows how many months.”

“Aye, sir.” Bush said, his eyes widening slightly. Ignoring him, Hornblower made his way to the refreshment table. He had time for one more drink before turning in for the night.


	17. Quick Repairs

Celestia was true to her word. By the time Bush came on deck for his morning watch, the entire beach was lined with ponies, tools on their backs and looking eager to help. A bit daunted by the sheer number of them, he relied on Miss Sparkle to divide the ponies between the two ships, before heading over to supervise the _Féroce’s_ repairs at Hornblower’s request.

Even though he should have been used to it by now, Bush was a little in awe of the sheer mass of ponies running around the deck, the bright colors standing out all the more against the dark browns of the _Féroce_. The ratio of man to horse was about four to one at this point, though the ponies still cheerfully took orders from the officers. In an attempt to keep from overcrowding things, Bush stayed out of the way on the quarterdeck, only occasionally coming down to examine the progress.

And that progress was more than impressive. Even the ponies who hadn’t been present for the first set of repairs quickly picked up what needed to be done and set to work. Things moved even faster when someone started up the Sea Horse Shanty and everyone fell into the proper rhythms. At the rate they were going, there was a strong possibility that the two ships would be able to depart by evening.

Bush was discussing the possibility of giving the ship a new, properly British coat of paint when he heard a loud splash from across the water, followed by an even louder shout that unquestionably had come from the _Lydia_. Bush immediately told Lieutenant Galbraith to take charge and headed down the gangplank. For Hornblower’s sake, he hoped it was an easily solved problem.

He arrived on the _Lydia’s_ deck in time to see Miss Sparkle glaring at a blue-coated unicorn. “You could have at least _asked_ first!”

“The great and hardworking Trixie saw no need!” the unicorn replied, “Why would the cannons need wheels anyway? Surely a good push is all that’s necessary?”

Hornblower was standing beside Miss Sparkle, hands clenched into fists behind his back. Nevertheless, his tone was even as he said, “Miss Sparkle, I think Miss Trixie would be better suited overseeing the sanding of the deck. Why don’t you take her there while I get a group of men and ponies to retrieve the wheels. This bay isn’t all that deep, is it?”

“I don’t think so,” Miss Sparkle said, “I could see the bottom when I went swimming a few days ago.”

Hornblower nodded. “Owen, gather some men and rig up a pulley system. It may be faster if we can get them up that way.”

“Aye, sir!” Owen saluted and hurried off. He had barely gone when Rainbow Dash, still sporting a bandage around her head, approached Hornblower. “Sorry about this, Captain, but, well, they wanted to make amends.”

Bush looked behind her and saw the three young fillies looking up at Hornblower tentatively. Hornblower got down on one knee and examined them critically. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know?” The little unicorn squeaked, “Whatever you tell us to do. We can help fix the ship, I promise!”

“I’m sure you can,” Hornblower said, before glancing at the rigging overhead, “Tell me, do you think you have the strength between the three of you to lift a wheel over your heads?”

“Yeah!” the pegasus said, “We’re totally capable of doing that!”

“All right,” Hornblower said, and Bush was flabbergasted to see him smile, “Then I want you to stay right here. My men are going to be lifting wheels out of the water. You three are to untie them and stack them up as soon as they touch the deck. Then my men will come and take them to where they need to be. All right?”

“Yes, sir.” The fillies said in unison.

“And who knows,” Hornblower said, standing up, “Perhaps you’ll earn your cutie marks in wheel stacking.”

Their eyes all lit up. “Cutie Mark Crusader wheel stackers!” they cheered, slapping their hooves together. Then they moved to the side of the ship and sat, eagerly waiting for the recovery process to begin. Dumbfounded, Bush moved away to recruit help from the _Féroce’s_ repair crew, only to find Applejack near the gangplank, smiling fondly at the fillies. She glanced from Bush to the fillies to where Hornblower was standing, and she said casually “I _might_ have explained to Captain Hornblower what my sister and her friends like to get up to in their spare time by way of apologizin’ for the cannon incident. Looks like he took it to heart.”

Unsure how to respond to that, Bush just nodded vaguely and headed down the gangplank. Best to take advantage of Hornblower’s good mood as long as it lasted.  
***

“That’s the last of ‘em, sir!” Crewman North said, panting slightly for air as he climbed up the gangplank, dripping water onto the recently sanded deck.

Hornblower glanced over at the fillies, who were busy hefting the latest wheel onto the pile. As soon as it had been set down, The red-haired pony turned to Hornblower with a wide smile. “Seventy-two wheels present and accounted for, sir!”

“Good work. North, go dry off. Owen, get these wheels reattached. Perhaps Trixie will be as happy to put them back on as she was to take them off.”

As the men hurried off, Bush (who had returned to the _Lydia_ on the grounds of “being better as having his orders heard”) noticed the three fillies looking at their flanks, which had, alas, not sprouted cutie marks. “Aww…” they said simultaneously, pouting.

Hornblower crouched down to them again. “Cutie marks or not, you three did a marvelous job. Well stacked, well-counted, good timing…my own crew couldn’t have done better. So hold your heads up high, little fillies.”

They beamed at him and ran off, presumably to share the praise with their family members. Bush couldn’t stop his mouth from falling open, and glancing around at the surrounding men, he could see that he wasn’t the only one. Was it possible that the captain was having another nervous breakdown, this one manifesting in a personality change?

Hornblower rose to his feet, glanced around the deck, and managed to fix each and every man with a death glare. “What are you staring at? We’ve still got a fair bit of work to do! Away with you now! I want these ships ready to sail by evening!”

The men saluted and scurried away. As Bush retreated back to the _Féroce_ , he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Hornblower was all right after all.


	18. Farewell Equestria

“Is everything ready?” Hornblower said, glancing around the deck for the fifth time to make sure everything was in place.

“Aye, Sir,” Bush answered, “The fresh fruit and water has been placed in the storeroom, and all the men are present and accounted for.”

“And the _Féroce_?”

“Lieutenant Gerard has signaled that they’re ready to depart at your command.”

“Very good, Mr. Bush. We will set sail presently. We just need to see off our…guests.”

With that, he descended to the deck, where Twilight and her friends were waiting. They all rose to their feet and saluted. Hornblower smiled, saluted back, then bowed to them. “Thank you once again for your assistance in repairing my ship. Please send my regards and thanks to Princess Celestia as well.”

“You can count on it!” Twilight said, “I’ll have Spike drafting the letter as soon as we get back to the inn.”

Hornblower nodded. “I wish you well. May no more humans arrive at Equestria to trouble you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” Pinkie answered, bouncing onto the railing, “It’s actually really fun!”

“I believe that’s in the eye of the beholder. Farewell, all of you.”

“Safe travels, Captain,” Rarity responded, glancing up at her handiwork, “And speedy travels, too.”

The other ponies murmured similar well-wishes, and waved to the crew before descending the gangplank. They remained on the beach, looking up at the _Lydia_ , apparently curious to watch it sail out of the bay. Hornblower raised a hand towards them one last time before turning his back on Equestria. “Raise the gangplank and unfurl the sails! I want to be out on the open ocean in one hour’s time!”  
***

Hornblower had been concerned that the men would be somewhat lax in their duties after taking their leave from Equestria, but they surprised him. They did their duties with only the minimum amount of grumbling, and while Hornblower occasionally caught the sound of the Sea Horse Shanty, he never heard anyone speak of their time on the island. Even a dinner with his officers had been more focused on their current heading than on anything they’d experienced in the past month. By the time a week had passed, everything was running as smoothly as it had been before their first encounter with the _Féroce_. Even better, the last physical reminder of their time in Equestria—the cutie marks—had almost entirely faded. Perhaps by the time they made it back to England, Hornblower could pretend the entire incident had never happened.

He was filling out the logbook that evening, noting idly that he was nearing the final few pages, when something occurred to him. Flipping back, he read over the various entries. While there were no direct mentions of the ponies, there were elements that would certainly catch the Admiralty’s eye. Surely they would ask where exactly this island was, or how they’d managed to repair five damaged cannons with limited resources. Even if Hornblower managed to keep the most important details a secret, the information in the logbook might lead to Equestria appearing on maps and seacharts. And that, he reflected dryly, wouldn’t do at all.

After considering for a moment, he sent for Lieutenant Bush and showed him some of the more notable entries. “What do you think we should do, Mr. Bush?”

“You’ll have to make the decision yourself, sir,” Bush said, “I think things are just vague enough that you might be able to get away with it. However, you’ve reminded me that there’s a slightly more pressing documentation issue.”

“And that is…?” Hornblower said, bracing himself.

Bush picked up the muster book from the corner of Hornblower’s desk, opening it to the last filled page. “The ponies have a sense of duty, too. They insisted on signing on, even if they were only on board for a day. And some of those names will absolutely catch the Admiralty’s eye.”

Hornblower looked over the page, grimacing at names like Sapphire Fruit and Sweetie Leaves. “You’re quite right, Mr. Bush. Trying to explain these names will either lead to the Admiralty thinking we’ve gone mad, or trying to seek out Equestria for themselves. I can’t in good conscience put the po…people sent on the expedition through that. Something must be done.”

After a moment, he handed the muster book to Bush. “When you’re on your watch tonight, throw this overboard. I’ll ring for Polwheal and tell him to conserve our firewood by feeding the cooking fires with the pages from the logbook.”

“Aye, sir. But whatever will the Admiralty say?”

“They will be told that both books were lost or irreparably damaged during the battles with the _Féroce_. I should be able to report the important points from memory, though the details may be a little faded.”

Bush smiled knowingly. “That will probably be enough to satisfy them. But aren’t you worried that the news will spread in other ways?”

“The men, you mean? No, I’m not concerned. I believe they hold Equestria in high enough regard that they know better than to go repeating tales of their time there. And if the story should happen to slip out when they’re deep in their cups, most of the listeners will dismiss them as tall tales, like those of mermaids. As for the men of the _Féroce_ , I highly doubt they’ll want the details of their defeat to be well-known, and thus will keep their silence.”

“I have no doubt about that, sir,” Bush sounded like he was repressing a laugh, “They’ll take that secret to their graves.”

Hornblower allowed himself a smile and a nod. “Dismissed, Mr. Bush.”

When Bush had gone, Hornblower rang for Polwheal and handed off the logbook. Polwheal didn’t even blink at the request; he just nodded and returned to the kitchen. With that weight off his shoulders, Hornblower pulled out his maps and started plotting a new course. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he opened up his dividers and laid them over the map. It was comforting, after all, knowing that there was at least _one_ thing he was good at.


End file.
